Industrial Revolution II
by DreamFluent
Summary: What happened to bring the world of Cars to the planet? Join Finn on an adventure unlike anything you've ever read before. Partially humanized, but not in the way you might assume. Lots of theories about the Cars world, just a warning...
1. Chapter 1: The Portal

**A/N: Just an FYI for this chapter and a couple others in the future, this has a MilesxOC pairing. Anyways, I have the theory itself posted on my DA (I'm IndustrialRev3010) as the very first journal entry if you want to find out more about it, as I have taken the explanation A/N off of this story. Anyways, hope you enjoy :)**

It was another ordinary day at CHROME. There hadn't been any new missions as of late because Professor Z had finally been captured, along with most of the other lemons, so the agents were all allowed an off day, even if they had to spend it at headquarters.

Being somewhat bored, Miles had found an open computer that he was allowed to use (a very rare occurrence), and decided to see what Holley had been up to lately. She told him earlier to check his email, but he also knew that even she liked to play pranks on him, so he kept alert. And, of course, the background is bright pink. Thanks, Miles thought, annoyed at the inbox that greeted him, flooded with messages, all with pictures attached. Flipping through them quickly, he realized that she'd been taking pictures of him and Estella when they weren't looking, and he realized why she sent them to him and not the dark blue Pacer…

He continued flipping through the pictures when he came to some that he uploaded himself before the "date" pictures, just to keep them somewhere else than a simple hard drive or flash drive. Those were too easily corruptible. There were several of the World Grand Prix when he had faked being electric, but then he came to the first one he'd saved: a high school graduation photo. A young man, not more than 18, with dark brown hair cut neatly so that it was out of his eyes, but covered about half of his forehead when swept to the side. Beneath the picture, a caption read "Class of 3017". He stared at it for a while, zoning out of what was going on around him, when Estella came into the room. He quickly turned off his computer.

"What was that?" she asked him.

"Nothing. Holley changed the background."

"Not that, it was a picture, I know it. Show me," she said playfully.

"What? This?" he pulled up the picture before it, of him emerging from the jungle, "Not exactly my best photo but if you insist," he grinned. He didn't even know why he saved that one.

"No, idiot, the one after that," she said, laughing. He flipped to a picture of him as an electric car,

"You know what I mean, just show me," she practically begged.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep." Miles changed the screen to show the picture, and Estella's face fell, "You remember?" she asked quietly.

"As clear as day. I was the last part of the second wave, if I'm correct."

"I'm sorry," she said, almost offering her condolences, "How old were you?"

"It was a few years after this, so I assume around 25."

Just then, Finn drove into the room. Surprised, Miles turned his computer off again and drove to the other side of the room, as if he was looking for a paper, "What were you doing?" Finn asked suspiciously.

Miles pretended not to hear, so Estella covered for him, "Paperwork. Part of it wasn't filed from the satellite incident."

"That's a lie. I saw to it myself," Finn said to her with a smirk, "Second wave, Axlerod?" he said a little louder to carry across the room. Miles stiffly nodded, clearly embarrassed, and continued his search for the invisible paper, "It's nothing to be ashamed of," Finn said, "Everyone had to eventually, you were just a little older when they got to you. I was early second wave, if it makes you feel any better."

Miles cheered up a little at hearing that, but still didn't say anything. Estella's turn signal began flashing, signaling a notification, "Sorry, boys, I have a mechanic's appointment in a few minutes," she drove over to Miles and kissed him on the fender, "See you in a little bit," and she left.

Suddenly, a bright light filled the room, temporarily blinding those inside it. It narrowed down to a portal on one side of the room. When the two cars recovered, Finn almost pushed Miles away from the portal after he realized what it was, "You need to listen to me right now, I don't know when I'll be back, or if I'll be back, but that portal is for me. You cannot follow me, do you understand?" Finn didn't even wait for Miles to respond before he turned around and drove straight into the portal, causing it to close behind him.

Miles stood in silence for almost five minutes, unsure of what to do. He was somewhat worried for Finn, but he seemed like he had everything under control; that, and he was somewhat annoying anyways. Suddenly, he heard an engine purring through the hallways and into the room. It was none other than Finn, "How long was I gone?" he asked, as if he went to go file papers.

"Five minutes… where were you?"

"It's complicated… I doubt anyone would understand."

"Why don't you start from the beginning, then?"

"It's a long story..." he said, almost in doubt of himself.

"We haven't had any missions lately, so you can take as much time as you need."

"I'll start with when I went through the portal, then."


	2. Chapter 2: Human

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! I'm going to keep the top A/N short, so look for answers to your questions on the bottom of this chapter :).**

Finn was surrounded by white light. He wasn't sure as to what caused him to do what he did—he just felt that was what he needed to do. He landed with a skid, almost hitting the wall the portal was facing. He quickly turned around to see that the portal was gone. He turned to find a door in the room he was left in, but it was too small for anyone to get through—anyone in Finn's time, anyways. He heard a beep come from his radio. He turned it on to find a message:

_Message from Finn McMissile. _The automatic voice said coldly, then beeped again and played the message, _Listen, you're me, so I don't have to tell you who I am. You're in the year 3010, and you know this year. This year is the beginning of the second Industrial Revolution, and unfortunately, we're the cause of it. The early humans need a design to help them survive, and you happen to be the only one they have. I'm telling you this because we're the same. I wouldn't have cooperated if I didn't get this message, so you need to return the favor and send this to your past. You'll know when you need to, just don't forget._ There was a low tone, _End of message._

Finn turned off his radio and took in what he had just heard. He looked down at his hood, almost self-consciously. He had almost forgotten about this. He fought back emotions when he heard the door open with a click. A short man with just small tufts of hair left on his head walked in to find a car staring back at him. He stared, and Finn glared back twice as hard. The man practically fell over backwards and ran out of the room, slamming and locking the door, screaming at the top of his lungs. Finn would have tried to escape, but he waited to see what would happen before he tried anything.

Another four of what Finn thought to be scientists came into the room less than five minutes later, all with either cameras or clipboards.

"HELLO. DO YOU UNDERSTAND US?" one of them spoke loudly.

Finn looked annoyed, but responded, "Of course, I'm English. No need to shout," he chuckled. He knew they hadn't seen a car before, so he brushed off the comment. One of the people walked carefully over to him and touched him on the hood with the pen they were holding, "It's quite alright. I don't bite. Oh, where are my manners? Finn McMissile, CHROME agency, year 3150."

"You're from the-"

"Future. Yes, you are correct," Finn said shortly, "You are the first generation after the Axiom, am I right?"

"Yes."

"The artificial intelligence has faded, am I also correct there?"

"Unfortunately. We're still redeveloping…" they didn't want to say it in case they might offend him.

"Cars? Also fine. I took history, I'm just making sure of where I am."

Just then, another person walked in with a cart. Another opened it to reveal all sorts of tools, and removed a wrench. They walked toward Finn, surrounding him. He reversed into a corner, for once unsure of what was going to happen. As far as he knew, they were going to take him apart. He drew one of his guns, aiming at them, "Listen. You do not touch me with those or I fire. Got it?" He never would, as it could impact the future, but it was a pretty good threat if he did say so himself. The people backed down, but one whipped out a cell phone and called someone. Within minutes Finn was surrounded by police with all guns trained on him. Knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea to damage anything here, he didn't try to escape out of risk of killing someone. The humans cut a hole in the wall large enough for him to pass through and they ordered him to go outside and to an automotive section of the building. Finn looked up at the building once he had left it. It was CHROME.

The police ordered him onto a lift. "Where did you find one of these?"

"Salvaged it after the Axiom landed. Can't get a working car, though," one of the scientists responded.

"Now, for your safety and ours," a scientist with a German accent explained, "You will be given sleeping gas, observing that you breathe." The team of scientists had grown to almost ten by this point, and all had evacuated the room. An orange gas permeated the air, and while Finn tried to hold his breath, it was no use. He finally allowed the gas to take him into a deep sleep.

He awoke to find that both of his doors were somehow pried open, his hood was up and there were at least 3 scientists surrounding him and taking notes. He instinctively slammed his doors shut, almost catching one of the scientists with one. He mentally checked his black box to find that they had not figured out how to unbolt it from its spot. He breathed a sigh of relief, but remained silent until one of them came around to his side and he could see him out of the corner of his windshield.

"Can you explain what planet you're from, or what demented mind created you?" the German scientist asked him, "What malicious spy program sent you?"

"I'm not the creation of demented minds, and I promise you that I am a part of the British Intelligence. You know, perhaps I am the product of a demented mind: yours," he spat, "I was sent here to help you, not to receive insults about where my loyalties lie."

"Where were you sent from?"

"Exactly where I told you when you first saw me. I'm from 3150, your future. I came here to ensure that it will still occur in the way that it does."

"You mean the rise of the machines?"

"No," Finn corrected, "The second Industrial Revolution."

"Whatever it would be called by the winners."

"There is no rise of the machines," Finn said quietly, "Artificial intelligence died out with the Axiom. I'm just as human as you are."

**A/N: Ok, reviews!**

**Thepopstar27- I want to meet Finn, too :). Sadly, this takes place too far into the future for us to actually be able to :(.**

**RushandStreak- I loved that story, by the way :P. Also, just to clarify, after the Axiom landed, the AI only survived long enough to help the humans rebuild the earth. With the loss of their original directive, they would probably die out, at least in my opinion. Since there was no need for cars on the Axiom, they sort of disappeared with the trash, so they would have to redevelop them, hence the model T's and other older car models. Finn has a special story, which I will save for later, but I will probably not touch on Doc. He's a race car, which means that it was probably his car, and he wanted to continue to race after everything changed, so he just asked to be put into that so he could.**

**Also, I just want to say that I have a backstory written for Miles involving this, and I will probably tack it onto the end of Finn's tale, which should only take a couple more chapters… This is probably going to be a shorter story, but I'll try to keep it going for you guys :).**

**Reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3: Pros and Cons

**A/N: Two updates in one week? You guys got lucky again :). Most of the answers and stuff is on the bottom of this chapter. Enjoy :). Also, I don't swear in any of my stories, so you might see slant swears in this one… :P. And… if there are any history-savvy people out there, I'm just going to say that I know there has already been a second industrial revolution, but both were in such close vicinity that in the grand scheme of things (like future history as well), they could be considered one revolution and two stages. That, and it's a cool name for a story :P, so just bear with me.**

Finn stared at the scientist with the utmost sincerity, "That's the reason why I'm here to help all of you. This is where it begins. With me."

The German scientist stood in silence, unable to process the information he was given before its time. The other scientists had stopped taking notes, waiting for someone to continue the conversation. Something within the leader had snapped, and he began to back away from the car, "You're a monster. That's not ethical. Holy crud," he had said other words as well under his breath, but no one could hear them, "What could possibly result in that?" he asked with a shaky voice, trying to maintain his composure.

Finn jerked his front down to close his hood, "You are living in the year 3010. This year resonates through society from now on as the year of the Epidemic."

"There's no possible way that could be. The biggest killer right now is—"

"Cancer," Finn finished for him, "The radiation from what the human race has done to the earth is impacting you. When it mutated the DNA in an unknown person around this time period, the mutation from the cancer allowed particles to become airborne and infect others."

"Have you identified the person?"

"The disease spread too fast for anyone to find an exact origin, that's just an assumption made by many in my time."

"Has it already started now?"

"This is about March, correct?" the German scientist nodded, and Finn continued, "I knew I would have been placed at the catalyst."

The scientists all had a look of fear in their eyes, and all somehow or another asked what they should do.

"The disease has no cure, unfortunately. The only hope for the human race to survive is to place them into bodies that cannot be infected. That's probably why I'm here today. I'm supposed to give you a type of blueprint to use to make what needs to be made."

"You mean…"

"Yes. This group standing in this room on this day is responsible for saving the human race."

"How would they be human if they all end up like… well, you?" a younger person, probably an intern, asked.

"That's the partial beauty to this. While I may not look human, I still am on the inside." Finn had to pause for a second, as it was hard to tell them about his inner workings, "I have a black box that contains my soul. When I was converted to this state, my soul was transferred from me to the box, and then into this car," he gestured to himself, "I still am human when it comes to my personality and intelligence and other characteristics of that nature, but not anything else."

"This is unethical," the lead scientist said bluntly, "This is wrong. What moral code would stand for this?"

Finn became desperate to convince them, "A moral code that determines whether a whole species lives as machines for a long time to come or dies as what they are this year. Humanity has created so many wonderful things over the course of their existence, even if we have damaged the planet in doing so," he felt a warm feeling course through him at the word 'we,' it made him feel as if nothing had changed since this year, "The technology developed currently is the peak of sophistication. You've been perfecting voice activation, which is depended upon in the future. If you think about this, this is exactly the technology you need to survive."

"But if we don't do what you say, we could find another way to let everyone escape this," the German scientist reasoned. He turned to the others in the room, "Find this pathogen and create a vaccination against it." All of them rushed out of the room, leaving the lead scientist with Finn.

"You realize that's not going to work," Finn said, "My presence proves it."

"I understand that, McMissile. The sooner they contract it, the sooner I can figure out what to do to begin this 'revolution',"

Finn's pupils constricted out of fear, "You aren't... The only person I know that uses logic like that is… What is your name?" he asked.

"Zurich. The other scientists in this facility call me Professor Z."

"That means... you sacrificed the rest of your sanity for this? Don't answer that. It hasn't happened yet."

"You know me in the future? How could that be if you're from over 100 years from now?"

"Without flesh and blood limiting the human life span, it has increased dramatically. The only way cars can really die is if they are crushed or caught in an explosion. Only the early cars actually died of natural causes, probably from a glitch in the programming in the black box."

Professor Z looked thoughtful, "This could be considered a good thing, then?"

"Sure."

"Can you give me the specifications for these black boxes?"

Finn and Professor Z talked for hours on end on how everything worked, Professor Z making sure to keep his distance from Finn as a matter of respect after what had happened before. Finn watched his expression as he explained everything, which was genuinely intrigued. He figured that the reason why he was such a genius with all of his future inventions was because of this confrontation. He probably wasn't meant to be in field of biology. Since he wasn't completely crazy at this point in his life, he and Finn got along quite well, working together to save humanity instead of trying to kill each other.

Finn kept thinking about how this could be; how could Professor Z be working side by side with him now, but he hates him in his own time? Perhaps being turned into a Zundapp Janus would have made him resent the change and the idea, and he would most likely associate it with Finn. He almost chuckled out loud; that would make anyone go crazy.

**A/N: Lame ending for this chapter, I know, but it's better than a cliffhanger!**

**I doubt there was anything in this that needs further explaining, but if there is, be sure to review so I can answer any questions!**

**RushandStreak- I probably would, too. I would run and hide if this actually happened in this time, especially if I knew who was partially behind it :P.**

**Thepopstar27- Eh, not really, but it's explained in this chapter.**

**Thanks for reading :).**


	4. Chapter 4: All in a Day's Work

**A/N: Well, it's coming back from the dead. **

**RushandStreak: He sort of knew about the portal, but that'll be explained later on. Also, he's not all that tolerant… as you will read. This was an exciting chapter to write, so be prepared.**

**Herobrineiscute: Just wait…**

**Christine317: It is really complicated, but I didn't like how the Pixar theory portrayed Cars, so this was the only thing I figured would make it more canon to the other movies, because if it's before Wall-E, where is all the trash that caused the humans to leave?**

**Without further ado, I give you the next chapter of IRII!**

Finn was allowed to stay in the lab for the night, and while he really didn't want to, he didn't have another choice; cars weren't alive yet in this time period. Professor Z said that he would have to stay in that room, as he didn't have anywhere else to accommodate him. After he left for the night, Finn faked sleep, but none really came to him. He kept his eyes open a crack the whole night, making sure no one came in through the door. At about one in the morning, he heard the lock begin to turn, and the door to the human part of the lab opening. Looking in his rear view mirror, it was none other than Professor Z. He quietly walked over to the workbench in the room, and opened a drawer to reveal a handheld screwdriver and a wrench. He grabbed them both and moved over to Finn, who still appeared asleep. Little did he know, Finn was very much awake and was on the verge of activating his gun. The professor grabbed Finn's door handle, and Finn responded by locking up and setting his internal alarm. His eyes snapped open and he turned 180 degrees to face his aggressor.

"What do you think you're doing?! Did you really think I would have fallen asleep that easily?"

"Actually, no. I had intended to come at this time anyways. This way, the security system here is active. If you try to break out of the windows or doors, this building will self-destruct and only one person has the code to deactivate it: me."

"I would rather die. I already gave you the information you needed, so it doesn't matter."

"Yes, you did give me the information I needed, but not the information I wanted. I want to see these so-called black boxes, and how they really work."

Finn drew a firearm, "You will not. I've cooperated until this point to ensure the future. No more."

"But you know me in the future," Professor Z reasoned, "you won't kill me now, that's impossible."

"It was my destiny to come here, so I can do whatever I so choose because I'm meant to be here right now, even if it's not my natural time period."

"Good point, but would you really?"

"I've killed several lemons in my day."

"Lemon?"

"Yes, bad cars that don't work right. I don't even care that I'm telling you anymore, this is the reason why you hate me so much in the future. You were one of the last to be changed over from human to car, and all they had left was a Zundapp Janus. Victim of short stock, like all of the other lemons," Finn said vengefully, "Even your own staff went against you, calling you Professor Zundapp out of jest, and the name stuck," he said with almost a stroke of satisfaction.

"No…" he said with fear stricken across his face, "THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN!" he screamed as he lunged for Finn, who dodged the leap effectively, drawing his gun at the same time, "You will die, McMissile, one way or another!"

"Not if I kill you first."

"I don't have anything to loose, not even that."

"Very well, then," Finn said, firing at the Professor, but purposely missing his vitals and hitting his arm.

He clutched his new wound with his good hand, and fell to his knees in pain, and stared at the ground, "You will pay for this. Not now, maybe not ever, but you will. Mark my words."

"All in a day's work," he said sarcastically, "You're going to need that code," he said as he turned around and jumped out of the single window in the room, never looking back.

Finn drove for almost two hours before he hit the outskirts of London, where he stopped for a while to rest. That was the only problem with CHROME: it was way too far away from the city to be safe. Whenever anything happened, it was always at least an hour to get to the action. He remembered this next part for sure, but he wasn't sure if he could go through it a second time. He sighed and restarted his engine, driving straight for the city. Unable to hide himself from the street lights, he drove in the open, receiving stares from all of the people who liked to get up early for exercise or work. He was surprised that they didn't scream or run. Tuning his radio, he found one of the local stations of the time. He kept the volume low so he could still hear what was going on around him, he listened quietly.

_We have heard from several eyewitness accounts that there is the first of the new fleet of living vehicles driving through London as we speak. The reason why it's out this early in the morning is still unknown. I always wondered how long it would take to cross the Atlantic, but apparently it's now..._

He turned the station off and continued driving, trying to avoid lights, even if it was impossible. He looked at the line of addresses on the side of the road. _25, 24, 23, 22, 21, 20_ he counted silently, _19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14_ one more, _13_ he stopped and turned into an alley to wait. Soon enough, a man with smoothed back black hair and dressed in a suit turned the corner. His eyes widened as he stared at Finn, and Finn backed up slightly in fear, but he quickly recovered. There was a long silence between the two beings before the man drew a shotgun, "Who are you?"

"That doesn't matter right now. I take it you're an agent of the British Intelligence?"

"That doesn't matter right now. Identify yourself now."

"Just listen to me for a second before you kill me. You know me and trust me more than anyone else in the world. Your name is Henry Bond, twenty seven times great nephew of the agent whose life was made into movies. You're en route right now to discover what professor Zurich had invited you to see just a couple hours ago. You carry at least three translation dictionaries with you in your car, even if you don't leave the city, just because you never had the time to learn."

"How in the world do you know all of this?"

"Who else would?"

The man had dropped his gun, and backed against the opposite wall, trying to get away from Finn. "There's no way. You can't be," he breathed with fear in his blue-green eyes.

"I am. You know that, I can tell; mainly because I knew when I was in your shoes."

**A/N: Dun dun DUN! Yes, Finn just met himself when he was still human :P. I'm going to continue to update this one until it's done, along with Against All Protocol, so I'm going to try and update each once a week, if not more if I have the time. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Song of Humanity

**A/N: Here's the next chapter!**

**Herobrineiscute- While I love time travel and all the trouble it causes, I also love Doctor Who, which states that time can be rewritten. I think I may use that idea because I wanted to focus more on Finn and my general theory about this. Who knows, maybe I will destroy the space-time continuum later... you won't know until I write it :P.**

**Christine317- Yay!**

**RushandStreak- Thanks for the comment *smiles modestly*, and I figured that since Finn is referred to a lot as James Bond's car, I might as well make him a relative of him, even if it is distant.**

**Enjoy :).**

"You're _me?_ How am I a car?" Henry exclaimed, confused and dismayed.

"Not too loudly," Finn tried to correct, "There's a garage at our house. Go, I'll be right behind you," he told Henry, still stunned, who turned and jogged away.

Finn listened to the recording he received when he had first emerged in this time. There was no way he could have sent that from the future. He focused on his memories from when he was Henry, but he couldn't remember anything. He recorded himself speaking the very same words that were spoken in the message and loaded them onto an emergency flash drive in case the opportunity presented itself, and he drove to his old home.

As he pulled onto the familiar street, he drew closer and closer to the mansion he once called home. It was completely encompassed by ancient oak trees, but that was the way he liked it. The house wasn't even visible in the summer because of the thick leaves, and it looked abandoned in the winter because their barren branches were the only decoration. It was a private home, but he didn't have anyone to share it with, so he was fine with it.

Being careful not to touch the trees, he pulled up to the front door and pushed the doorbell with his tire, but then realized that he could open the garage by voice-activation.

"Please," he said loud enough for the microphone to pick up, and the door opened itself in a few seconds. Waiting inside was none other than Henry, waiting next to his car, a bright silver Bentley.

Finn waited outside, hesitant.

"No need to wait, please come in," he invited, and Finn moved into the garage, as Henry closed the door behind him. There was plenty of room for him to move and even turn around, so there was no problem.

"I suppose you have a lot of questions…"

"For starters, how in the world did I end up as a car?"

"I was told when I was you, so I guess I can tell you. A plague is about to sweep the globe," he said with extreme seriousness, "All the people in the future are in the state I'm in."

"How do you play music, then?"

"All we have are recordings from before, and forklifts can play some instruments, but that's about it."

"But how do _you_ play music?"

Finn remembered this part, and he looked down at his hood out of shame and regret, "I can't."

Henry's expression shifted from a look of worry to a look of horror, "Henry, I—"

"I don't go by Henry anymore;" Finn said bitterly, "Most were required to have a name change when they were changed from human to car. The government decided that Henry Bond wasn't a good name for an Aston Martin, so they changed it without even telling me. My name is Finn McMissile, now. They take everything from you that you know and love. Your house and all of the trees were demolished to make room for a new home that was adapted for cars, but you were outbid when it came time for reselling it. Your piano is in a museum in Italy and your cello was lost."

Henry leaned on the wheel well of the Bentley in shock, on the verge of mentally breaking down from the looks of it. Finn's eyes stared at him like ice shards, but softened when he remembered who he was talking to.

"You gave the Bentley to your brother," Finn said gently, "so that he could be a nice car and not have to worry about illness in the next life," he admitted, "he'd been suffering before all of this, but he only told you after everything changed. You never see him again, so make that one moment count," he said softly, making the silent Henry relax slightly. Finn had to force himself to not cry.

"That's good," Henry said, "John won't have to suffer." Not needing to say anymore on the subject, he changed it, "Did you at least make a CD?"

Finn cracked his window open slightly, allowing the classical piano music from his stereo to fill the room. "It's the only one I have with me anymore."

"Would you like another?"

"The one I have right now is perfect already. We worked hours on it. You recorded all of your favorite songs beforehand, anyways, but there were a couple that are just piano because you didn't have time to add the cello part."

"Which ones?"

"Cumberland Cross and Rilyos Lerautia."

Henry's eyes lit up, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind waiting for a minute, would you?"

"Not at all," Finn smiled as his younger self went into the house. Finn liked this part the most, simply because of the music. The door connecting the garage to the house opened to reveal Henry holding a black case and a music stand with some music on it, smiling with joy. He put the case on the ground, and clicked it open to reveal an immaculately cleaned cello. He set it up and began to tune, not needing a reference note.

"The usual tempo?" Henry asked him.

"I believe so. These recordings were made so long ago I can't remember. Would you like me to play the first few seconds of Cumberland Cross for you?"

"Sure."

Finn turned up the volume slightly and allowed the piano-only track to play. It began slowly, like a ballad piece. He turned it off to allow Henry to get oriented, and then his younger self signaled to him that it was alright to start. He began on a low note, allowing the eighth notes to take over. At a slower tempo, they sounded fast, yet heartfelt. Even though it was a band piece, he had managed to combine most of the parts into piano and cello, giving it a softer tone than the original, but lovely nevertheless. Henry played his heart out, and Finn let himself be swept away by the music that had left him so long ago. He had his microphone on, recording the two parts of the music together as one piece.

He watched himself play the instrument he so loved; he could tell the exact moment when he was swept away with the music because at that point, so much emotion was poured into the piece it was almost overwhelming. A brief moment separated the dance section from the beginning, turning emotional quarter and eighth notes into bright, happy sixteenth notes—his specialty. In less than a minute, the song was over, and Henry blinked back into the world, smiling with content.

"I think I did well on that, wouldn't you?"

"How could I expect anything less from myself?"

"The next song was Rilyos Lerautia, right?"

He changed to the song on his radio, which began with only piano, "Yes."

"You remember that you never finished that one…"

Finn thought for a minute and then remembered, "That's right. It was the last few measures that got me."

"Well, that's what happens when we write duets for one person," Henry reminded him, "That song shouldn't need a cello part, anyways."

Finn thought for a second, remembering how the song went, "You might be right. The piano part seemed complete by its—"

Suddenly, the garage door was broken down by several soldiers, who paid no attention to Finn, but rushed over to Henry and grabbed him and forced him to stand up, causing the cello in his grip to fall to the ground. They turned him around and forced him against the Bentley, handcuffing him.

"What are you doing?!" Finn called out frantically, "He's a government agent!"

"Then we have the right man," the soldier replied bluntly.

**A/N: I only have one or two more chapters before I finish this story, but I don't want it to end! I wanted to give a special thanks to RushandStreak for her encouragement to continue this story through to the end, instead of discontinuing it. However, I'm going to change gears on this story after I finish Finn's story, so it won't have to totally end, but I'll explain that later :). Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6: A Different Life

**A/N: Here's the last chapter of Finn's story *cries*. I actually am going to continue this story in a way, still, but there's more on that at the bottom.**

**RushandStreak- Thanks for the compliment *blushes*, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :).**

**Christine317- Dun dun DUN! Muahaha :)**

**Hope you guys like this!**

The soldier restraining Henry forced him to stand up and made him walk out of the garage when Finn pulled in front of the party, knowing that this wasn't supposed to happen.

"How dare you assault an agent of his status!" he practically screamed.

"This is not an assault," one of them responded, "We were supposed to retrieve Henry Bond and all other government agents."

"The reason?"

"Classified."

"I'm an agent of CHROME; nothing should be classified to me."

"What is this CHROME organization?"

Finn sucked in a small breath. He had forgotten that it didn't exist yet, "Forget what I said," he tried to explain, "I'm government agent, as well," he tried to draw away from the fact that both he and Henry shared the same voice, and Henry caught on also, keeping quiet.

"How are you already…?"

"Experimental of the first wave," he lied, "I volunteered."

"Then what is the problem with taking this man?"

"It's… not his time yet," he tried to figure out a reason why other than he needed more technology than was available, "He needs to be tested to see if he's immune."

"He's still a government agent, and it states under code A-113 that was passed last week that all government agents are to be taken into custody and converted as soon as possible following the confirmation of the beginning of the second wave," the soldier said robotically.

Finn looked disheartened, and made eye contact with his younger self, who looked desperate for help, but Finn could do nothing as they forced him into an army vehicle and drove off, taking him to his fate. It wouldn't be long before they collected the Bentley, as well, on his own request for his brother.

Finn finally resolved to give chase to the vehicle, remembering the route it took to the secret clinic on the outskirts of the city. While another one would be set up for the general public eventually, this was a different case. Driving at his top speed, he finally caught up with the truck that was carrying Henry, Leland, and a few others that he didn't recognize from a distance. As they were unloaded, he saw that they were all handcuffed and organized in a line, a total of six in all. He watched them all walk into the building, one of the only ones available at this point to accommodate for cars. He caught Henry's eye and gave him a reassuring glance, and then pulled around into a spot where he thought he would go unnoticed, and observed as best as he could what was happening. All of the other agents were men, except for one. A woman who looked a little older than Henry walked a couple positions back from him. Her blonde hair was just beginning to gray at the roots. She walked with authority, even in handcuffs, and radiated confidence. A single tear stained her cheek, being the only sign that she knew what was going to happen. They were all forced to walk in a line, trailing into the building. When the soldiers followed, Finn came out of hiding and peaked into the large door that had not been closed, meaning that another group was coming soon.

As he had remembered, it was a single room that was the size of at least two football fields. The small group of people was forced to stand in line. The first, Leland, was taken behind a black curtain. Other than the room dividers, the entire room was painted white and smelled of antiseptics and gasoline. The floor was black, to mask the tire tracks of cars coming in or out. Suddenly, a loud, repetitive beep echoed through the room. Another large door opened upwards to reveal a flatbed tow truck carrying none other than Henry's Bentley. It was guided off the ramp by two people, and the truck left. Finn noticed that Henry's face brightened at its sight, and he looked around to see if John had been captured or not. It had been a while since he had seen his brother; he had been sent on an undercover mission a while ago and any contact would compromise him, and despite himself, he actually wanted to see him again, even if he was going to end up as something other than human if he was ever found.

Finn watched as the car was pushed to another area of the room. It was sprayed both inside and out with some sort of liquid, presumably disinfectant. Two workers installed a large piece of metal that matched the paint color, and it covered the inside of the windshield. Eyelids. Several other components were bolted into place, and the tires were replaced with new ones that were handled especially carefully by the man driving the cart with them. The windows were broken out and removed, being replaced with a type of black material that bulged on the outside. Finn was glad that his were just tinted to opaqueness; it subtracted a lot of weight even if his glass was thicker than average. Several people surrounded the car and pushed it out of sight, probably to get its gadgets.

He gasped when he heard the horrid screaming he could tell to be Leland's, and was forced to turn away out of pain for his friend. The process wasn't always perfect, and he saw the products of bad conversions. One car in particular he saw in France when he had first become partners with Holley. While she still had full movement, her windows were still clear and her eyes… were in her headlights. He could never guess what had happened to cause that, and he shuttered just thinking about it. She was probably a defect from the first wave. Most of those that were in the first wave were older, or were already in the late stages of the disease. Many older race car drivers had also volunteered so they would have an edge against others on the track for a while beforehand, and they would have more experience while others got their bearings, therefore meaning easier races, but the technology took a while to perfect, and it still didn't end well in most of the first cases.

He turned back to his unseen position at the door of the warehouse, where a dark red Jaguar E-type with bright blue eyes emerged, surrounded by people trying to keep him on his tires. While he had figured out some of the fundamentals of moving, he was exhausted and disoriented from the transfer, causing his attempted escape out of instinct from his training. His pupils constricted out of fear from the aides surrounding him, and he frantically looked around to find a way out of the building, or at the very least out of the crowd, who were spooking him in his confused mind. He tried to reverse, but only ended up jerking backwards a few feet, running into three people standing behind him. Finally, two men driving forklifts helped him through another doorway in a more solid room divider on the other side of the warehouse.

Finn grimaced at the scene set before him. Leland had always been so…graceful, as a human; that's what made him such a good agent. When this apocalypse forced him out of that body, he had lost his greatest advantage. He eventually learned how to control all of his hardware, but he didn't have the feel for them like he did his gadgets before, and he avoided using them at all costs unless he was in danger. Perhaps he waited too long to use that advantage on his final mission; Finn always figured that was what had happened.

He watched as another truck pulled in from the front, and quickly used his grappling hooks to get to a more concealed location, still trying to figure out how to get the delayed message to Henry. He watched as another line of neutralized agents made their way into the front section of the building, being led by a man in a pilot's uniform, which could only be identified as Sid by Finn. He had never liked being called by his full name, Sidney, because he thought that it was a female's name and not proper for a pilot of his status. As soon as the line joined the one already waiting, he was taken into another room by some workers.

The line grew shorter and shorter, taking one person at a time. Apparently they figured out the issue that Leland had, because there were no more frantic cars trying to escape, in fact, Finn didn't see any cars at all after he saw Leland; they were probably guided to a separate location in the building where they could learn how to move again in a safer place. He saw Henry eventually reach the front of the line, and he could hardly look when he saw them take him into one of the curtains, when he saw something unbelievable snap within Henry. He mustered all of his strength and broke through the two people escorting him to his fate, and he ran out of the open door. Finn immediately followed suit, quickly lowering himself to the ground and exiting before he could be captured. When he caught up to Henry, who was panting at this point, he made him sit down under a large tree beside the road.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked him harshly, "You could destroy the space-time continuum if you pull something like this."

"No, it wasn't that," Henry said in between gasps, trying to catch his breath, "I saw you in the rafters, and I figured you needed to talk to me. I doubt the rest of today is going to be a very good time, so here I am," he said, smiling slightly.

"I did need to talk to you, but only for a minute. I can see the guards coming for you." Finn ejected the flash drive he had loaded only hours ago, and took it in his tire. He pushed it towards Henry, who looked at it in surprise, "Ask them to plug this into port G before they change you. Don't ask why, just trust me."

Henry picked up the small device by turning around and grabbing it with one of his handcuffed hands. Finn activated one of his guns and blasted the lock on both cuffs, using the precision shooting Londyn had taught him so long ago.

"How did you—?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Finn chuckled, folding his gun back into his side. He couldn't resist showing his younger self one of his gadgets, "No one deserves their last human moments in handcuffs."

Henry nodded in thanks, and turned to face the oncoming soldiers, all dressed in uniform camouflage. He walked straight towards them with his palms toward them, to show he had no weapons besides the flash drive. One man grabbed each arm and escorted him towards his fate. He saw a bright white light out of the corner of his eye, but thought nothing of it. Perhaps it was another agent's headlights.

They led him through the building and placed him in a large, curtained-off room. He was met with Velcro straps around his wrists and ankles that were connected to a table. _So much for getting rid of the handcuffs_,he thought bitterly. Two workers dressed in white placed wires on all of the major nerves of the body, removing a wrist and an ankle from the table long enough to place some along his spine. A large, metal helmet was placed on his head, the inside full of prickly electrodes. He remembered for only a moment about the drive, and he opened his hand, "I was told to have this connected into port G," he said to no one in particular. One of the workers took it and went behind another curtain, where the Aston Martin must have been parked. He watched in horror as a bright orange box was connected to the other ends of the wires attached to him. One of the workers threw a switch, and all went black with a surge of electricity.

Soon enough, Henry was snapped into reality, but not his reality. All he could see at first was a metallic blue hood, and then some workers slammed it shut after confirming his vital signs… whatever those were to a car. He tried his hardest to focus his new eyes, but they weren't responding to his mental command. He felt his tires pushing against the ground, but everything else was only dully present, like a nervous system existed, but was focused in his tires rather than anywhere else. His tires began to slip out from under him, he not knowing how to control anything, and his right side clipped the floor as he tried to regain his balance. More workers came into the room with jacks, and used them to prop him up so he wouldn't risk falling again. One of the workers was working with a large touch-screen computer that had Henry's new schematics up, he thought, and he read it over her shoulder, trying to figure out how he worked, and he noticed something different in the name section above it all. Sure enough, the name displayed was _Finn McMissile_, and he grimaced at reading it. His name was the one thing that had propelled him into the agency, and it was gone. He realized his house was probably next, he unable to even use it due to his size, much less protect it.

The worker turned to see Henry was staring worriedly at the screen, "It's nothing to worry about," she said gently, "You're going to be alright. Can you speak?"

"Pourquoi pas moi?" he said half foggily, unsure how to speak with a mouth made of metal.

"That's what I was afraid of," the woman said quietly, "Can you speak in English?"

Finn had to think for a minute. He didn't even know about the languages running through his thoughts until he spoke, "Is… this… English?" he choked out, trying to filter the languages swimming through his computer.

"It is," she replied, "but you may have to relearn what each language sounds like. It was an experimental computer program they wanted to try in you, knowing you never learned any of them before. Think of it this way, you won't have to worry about all of those translation dictionaries anymore. So, are you up for it?" she asked, trying to be positive for him.

He frowned slightly, but then hid his emotions from the world with a small smile, "Por que no?"

She chuckled, "You've got some work cut out for you." She heard a metallic beeping, "You're going to have to drive to the training holodome," she said, "try to get there without relying too much on the forklift, but it's going to be there for you in case you forget what to do. Just imagine you're driving a car, instead of being one."

Finn could infer that she had helped many of the agents today based on the confidence of her words. Two large forklifts appeared through the black curtain with their tines on alternate sides, instead of in front. The woman pressed a button, and all four jacks lowered, allowing Finn to rest on his tires. He looked nervously at the person driving the forklift on his right, and he shakily drove forward a few inches before his tires slipped out from under him, again, making him glad there were forklifts there to catch him. He was guided through a hallway of the black room dividers and into the open air, where he finally got the hang of driving, even taking his eyes off of the empty road to check his rear view mirror, just for fun. Sure enough, he saw two small tailfins on his back corners that he had neglected to notice on his future self. He kept wondering about the _Missile_ part of his new name. He guessed he'd figure it out soon enough.

He saw the large building he assumed to be the holodome, and figured out how to turn into it and find his way to the main room. He looked around, and realized that both forklifts had stopped supporting him, their tines facing forwards instead of being under him. He smiled in triumph, and made his way into the training arena, where several cars were driving a course, but the red Jaguar E-type waited off to the side. He must have seen him come in, because he turned around to greet him.

"Hello," he said warmly, "What's your name? I can't recognize anyone anymore," he chuckled, "My original name was Leland Wesley, if you knew me before. I guess I'm supposed to go by Leland Turbo now, though."

"Leland?" Finn said excitedly, not having seen him go before him in the warehouse, "It's me, Henry! Well, they changed my name to Finn McMissile, so I guess I'm Finn, now," he laughed, relieved he finally found him. He didn't even realize he was speaking in English at first, but when he realized he was, he smiled on the inside. Things really were going to be alright.

**A/N: Ok, you guys have two choices from now on. I can either write about Finn and Leland adjusting to being cars, or I have some ideas for short stories about other characters that I didn't get to mention here. If you choose the second option, I have one written for Miles first, and then I'll be open for suggestions. I don't want this story to end, so you'll still get updates either way :P. Thanks for reading :).**


	7. Miles: The Last Immuno

**A/N: This chapter is a little different. This specific chapter begins the new direction I'm taking with IRII, having it turn into short stories about what happened to other characters during the second Industrial Revolution.**

**RushandStreak- Thanks for the suggestion, and as you can tell, I am using it. Yes, the agent was Londyn, or at least a reference to her, and thank you for understanding my theory... not many people do I don't think... I just have to say, you do have creativity, but a different type. I could never think of Taming Oil, and I'm sure you could come up with something like this as you continue to watch Doctor Who :). This story is very Doctor Who-ish, thinking about it, and I guess it contributed a lot to it as I continued with it. Hm... the Doctor in this story. That, my friend, is something I'm considering now :P.**

"Please! You can't do this to me! I'm an Immuno, I'm not sick," he begged, being forced to walk by chains on his wrists attached to a silver Buick. The car said nothing, but slowed down the speed it was driving at. The young man was thankful for this, but he still walked with his head down, watching the delicate dance his feet did when they walked, how his hands clasped one another because they had nowhere else to go. He was human, at least right now he was. The long hallway that the prisoner had entered was unnaturally bright, walls painted white but stained with oil and occasionally blood. The floors were black, probably to cover up the skid marks left by new additions. He was too tired to keep walking, but he knew he had to. He would be dragged otherwise; it didn't matter if he got hurt. He wanted to walk while he still had the ability. The car drove into a room, allowing the door to slide shut behind the prisoner. It pressed a button with its tire to release the chains, and then left, making sure he didn't get any ideas about escaping.

He allowed his brown hair to fall into his eyes. It hadn't been cut since he went into hiding. When a self-scan showed he was one of the few immune to the Epidemic, he knew he had to run. He left the city that night, actually. He could remember every move he made to stay out of the headlights of possible aggressors, making a rather elaborate hideout in the woods. The second wave had been going for a while, then, and it was almost over according to the news that he got sometimes on the radio he built, and the Immunos, as those immune to the Epidemic were called, were being hunted down and converted because they had no place in this world anymore. He had watched his friends go from a distance, hiding in bushes or in a tree or other form of cover. He would never admit it, but he cried when he saw his best friend emerge from the Clinic as a Ford.

He had tripped and fallen just three hours before, into a busy road. The police were called, and he was chained and drug to the Clinic in the center of London. He sat on the small stool provided, staring at his dirty hands. He clenched them, observing how they tensed, and then released them, marveling at the delicate way they moved with such accuracy. He wouldn't need them anymore; everything was voice-activated now. He wondered what they had decided he was to be. The most recent ones he'd seen were Lemons. Hugos, Gremlins, everything that everyone else didn't want. He knew they'd manufacture more for the third wave, the Transfers, at least that's what they were all calling them now, instead of children. They were running out of vehicles now, though. A white car drove into the room and began to set up the equipment, which consisted of an orange box and wires. This car had tools attached to its hubcaps, allowing it to move them with accuracy around the prisoner, making sure to pinpoint every nerve possible.

He took his opportunity to run, breaking out of the equipment. The car quickly caught up to him, pulled around front, and knocked him on his back, without even saying a word to him. Another two appeared almost out of nowhere and managed to wrap Velcro around his wrists and ankles, and then placed him on a metal table with the corresponding Velcro, firmly locking him in place. He struggled, but found it no use, and gave up.

"Can I request one thing before I'm converted?" he asked the doctor tending to him.

"What is it?" it replied gruffly.

"What am I going to be?" he asked quietly, in resentment. His eyes lost their life, and instead of shining, they were a dull hue of the blue they used to be.

"They haven't determined it yet."

The nurses finished connecting the man to the machine, wires covering him from head to toe, and a large helmet on his head that was digging into his skin. The main doctor threw a switch, causing the man to convulse from the surge of electricity, and then fall silent. The black box flashed a red light it had on it, which confirmed that stage one was complete. The box was carted to the next room, where a light green SUV was waiting, lifeless. Its hood was open, the motor underneath connected to jumper cables, which were connected to an electric supply unit. The door was opened, and the box was placed underneath the back seat in the middle. 6 thick cables were connected to it, one for each sense and one for movement, and the box was bolted in place by two thick metal bands.

A button on the ground was pushed, sending an electric current into the car, jump-starting it. With a strong jerk, he opened his new eyes, which were their original lively blue. He looked at his hood and thought he was going to vomit. The jumper cables were removed and his hood was slammed shut. He tried to move, but it seemed to be a daunting task. Attempting to move forward a little, he found that he couldn't; he had been placed on a lift that was raised to rest just beneath his undercarriage. While his tires touched the ground, the lift remained firm, and the force of friction kept him put.

Another car with a clipboard drove so it was in his view, "Are you able to speak?"

"Ofcoursse," he slurred his words, unable to adjust to a new mouth and teeth.

The car chuckled, "You'll get the hang of it soon. Can you say your name?"

He didn't want to embarrass himself even more, so he shook his hood. He refused to believe that he'd just been handicapped like this for no reason, so he attempted to show none of it.

"There were only a few Immunos left when you came in, but only one in England, so I assume your name is Miles Izzard?"

The SUV nodded.

"You need a name change to reflect your new status as a vehicle," the car drove over to a computer and pressed a button, generating a last name, "How about Axlerod? Miles Axlerod. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

He rolled his eyes, well, windshield, but then nodded again.

After almost 5 hours of learning how to move again with the help of forklifts, he was released from the clinic onto the roads. He drove out to where his hideout was to find that he couldn't retrieve his belongings because he had no hands. He kicked the ground with a tire out of frustration, only to find a dark mud covering his tire where dust should have been; he was already leaking oil. He was a lemon; he thought that he would have been able to get away from the fate of the late second wave, but he wasn't lucky enough. Depressed and alone, he drove and drove until he found a clearing that had fewer beings than the city. He found a small grove of trees and settled down. There was a small lake in the center of this grove of trees, so he drove over to it with curiosity.

Looking in the water, there was only one thing that determined that he was still himself. His blue eyes shone with intensity in the new light of the sun coming up, frightened, unsure of why any of this had to happen. He didn't understand the purpose of the handicap he was just given. He felt exposed, unable to protect from prying eyes; cars weren't meant to live and breathe. As a human, he could just cover up imperfections with clothing and hide whatever was not acceptable by society's standards, but that wasn't an option anymore. He didn't want to be dependent on a machine for survival. It showed everyone that he had the Epidemic, even though he never did. It was a pointless waste of humanity. He was perfectly capable beforehand, and he loved being able to live without burden or care. Sick of his own mutated reflection, he kicked a rock into the water, stirring it up and revealing that there was a film on top of the lake. Miles gingerly placed a tire into the water, which was difficult because they were filled with air, and stirred the water again, his tire emerging with black sludge on it.

"Oil?"

**A/N: So, was it any good? Oh, and the next chapter is something special for you guys. RushandStreak has written a short story involving Londyn, and another of her OC's, Morningfire, with their own experiences of the second Industrial Revolution, so her story (once I get around to proofreading/uploading it) will most likely be the next chapter. If anyone has any requests for characters from the movie to have a story (or any of my OC's but Abby, she doesn't exist in this universe), feel free to review with them and I'll get around to them as best as I can. **

**Thanks for reading :).**


	8. Londyn and Morningfire: Pesky Humans

**A/N: I just want to say that I'm not the one who wrote this; this is the work of RushandStreak, and Morningfire is her OC, not mine. I guess you guys could consider Londyn as being both of our OC, seeing as we both use her a lot, but she was RushandStreak's original idea to begin with :).**

**RushandStreak- Yes, Eddie Izzard :P, and thank you for the compliment of my theory. While complicated, it is probably my best one so far :). I did edit your story a *little* bit, so if there are any differences in that respect they're sort of supposed to be there...**

**Christine317- From last chapter onward, this story is going to be a series of oneshots/short stories. Sorry for the confusion :-/**

**Enjoy :)**

Londyn walked head high in cuffs. She glared at the soldiers leading her to her new life. They were trying not to look at her, she could tell, as she ground her teeth in pure anger. She had not spoken, she had not protested outright, but she resisted the cuffs. She did not deserve to spend her last moments human as a prisoner; she loathed this as they paraded her through the building. The pain of grinding her teeth reminded her she was human, and a single tear trickled down her face as she entered the curtained-off room.

She almost snarled as they placed her down on a table and strapped her down. She felt a slight fluttering in her stomach, a slight bout of fear welling up inside of her, as they began attaching wires to her body. Her eyes darted nervously from side to side as they attached the last few wires to her back. She broke into fighting, trying to slip out of the Velcro bands. Two men gripped her arms as she struggled and she only let a small yelp of fear slip from her throat before they clamped a metal helmet onto her head, the painful electrodes pinpointing hundreds of parts on her head, disabling her from any movement for a few precious moments. She glanced around her, trying still to toss and turn. She only succeeded in turning her head to the left where one of the men attached an orange box, an electrical box, to all the wires. They threw a switch and electricity surged through her. She held onto the edges of the table, desperately trying to hold onto her consciousness, but to no avail. She felt reality slipping away through her fingertips into pure blackness

She felt a terrible itch on her nose and she tried to reach up and scratch it, but felt herself collapse instead. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at distressed faces. "What?" she asked, then she remembered. She looked down to see a light green hood and felt panic surge through her. She was a car. Londyn tried to move but only toppled onto her undercarriage, which scraped painfully against the ground. Several of the men in front of her grabbed her sides to steady her, but instinct told her to pull back. The car lost her balance once more and the men once again steadied her.

"Easy, Londyn," said a familiar voice. She glanced at her mirrors to see a lady, a pilot, looking at her and smiling. "You look good," she said with a wink. Londyn marveled at Dawn's predicament. The pilot was in cuffs, smiling cheerfully, only snarling when the soldiers touched her. "I guess I'm going to have to make the 'conversion' as well. I don't know what I'll do when I can't get up in an airplane anymore." Londyn's eyelids raised as one of the soldiers snickered, obviously amused at Dawn's statement. Then they took her arms and shoulders and forced her into another room after the small moment with her friend they had allowed, all the while Dawn fought to get their hands off her, to be free once more.

They lead Londyn outside as she stumbled across the ground, trying to keep her unstable balance. There were several other cars there with her, but she recognized no one in their new bodies. Then two double doors opened up and a Spitfire rolled in, surrounded by at least seven people. There was coldness in her blue eyes that showed she hated the forklifts and humans supporting her wings and controlling her direction. As she moved closer, Londyn could hear her shouting in anger, "Let go of me you ingrates. Do you want me to shoot you? I'm not afraid to! Get your grimy hands off of me!" As soon as they let go of her she swayed on her landing gear, but she steadied herself and snarled as the people holding her stepped back.

The Spitfire looked around at the room she was in and rested her eyes on Londyn. Recognition passed through her eyes, "Blimey, Londyn, I hate those pesky people. They just won't leave me alone."

Londyn chuckled, "Dawn?"

The Spitfire looked sad for a moment, "My name isn't just 'Dawn' anymore. The government changed my name to Morningfire."

"Personally," Londyn started, "I think Morningfire is a better name for a Spitfire than Dawn."

Morningfire's eyes lit up, "I'm a Spitfire?"

The car nodded, "You aren't just any Spitfire, you're the Spitfire you used to fly."

"I guess I won't mind being a plane," Morningfire smiled, glancing at her wings quickly as if to confirm it for herself. Londyn and Morningfire laughed for a moment, relieving them from the left over fear and nervousness from the horrors they had to suffer through to preserve their lives.

**Thanks for reading :)**


	9. Holley: Friendships can be Dangerous

**A/N: I'm going to write a little something I've been thinking about for a while… it's a little, (correction), a lot sad, but it explains a bit of Holley being the way she is, and it brings the possibility for another character (or two, or three) in my other stories.**

**Technorganic Nerd- *Gives a high five* Sci-Fi nerds for the win! I love theories like this in real life, but I learned from experience that not everyone does :P. Thanks for reviewing!**

**RushandStreak- Thanks! I'm glad those last-minute changes were okay with you :).**

**Titanic X- While it's not this chapter, I will probably write about what you recommended next. Just a clarification question, the plane he is in the movie is the one he'd be dreaming about, right?**

**Enjoy :)**

It was too quiet for a modern age town. The sound of engines did not fill the air like it did everywhere else, save a few darting from the main building to their small homes. The large warehouse in the middle of the new town in the middle of nowhere was always lit in the first few stories, but dark in the upper levels because the windows were blacked out. The year is 3025, exactly one year after the end of the second wave. While the adults had been converted, it was difficult to create the technology needed for the children that were at-risk. Being the only humans to be left in existence with no more to come, it was dire for as many to survive as possible. Giving respect to these youth, no testing was performed on them. The cars trying to complete this feat were working blind to the needs of younger children, working only with those above age thirteen.

Life in the upper levels was isolation. The cars came three times a day to deliver meals, and they were under surveillance, but there was no direct contact with the outside world to preserve the sanitary conditions needed to keep them alive. The children of England had been taken at the second wave, believing that it would be too traumatic for them to witness the conversion they had no part in. There was a nameless town like this in every country.

Holly had watched her siblings be taken one by one. Being the youngest of four (by two minutes, anyways), the blonde-haired child had been hurt the worst when they were taken from their parents. When they were placed in the room, her oldest brother didn't even make it before he was discovered. He was fourteen. In the brightly lit room, she stayed close to her two remaining siblings, her older sister and her twin brother. They played imaginary games together, mostly involving her stuffed bear she snuck underneath her shirt to protect it. The worn out toy became a superhero, doing whatever the three children wanted it to do. One time they even made it be a car, forcing it to drive around on its stomach. The entire level laughed.

They kept track of the days by moving beds every night. There were three circles of beds on her level, each of which there were 365 beds. One cycle was one year. After two and a quarter cycles, Holly's sister disappeared. It was almost like she knew what was going to happen in the sense of intuition. She was called to the elevator to the lower levels via the display screen next to it. She got up from the game they were playing, and she hugged Holly and her brother like they were the most precious things on earth.

"I don't know what's going on," she said, on the verge of crying, "but I've seen the things keeping us here. They're not human. When you turn thirteen, please remember that you're human. No matter what."

"But Ellie," Holly tried to keep from sobbing, "You can't leave us. Who will come up with all of the stories?"

"You can, Holly," her sister said, "but they're going to take me by force if I don't go," she said, getting up and walking over to the elevator, which was open and waiting for her genetic signature to close it, "I love you both," she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the blue opaque glass elevator.

She buried her head in her brother's shirt, her small stature shaking with sobs, "What are we going to do, Felix?" she asked in desperation.

"I don't know," he said with a worried tone, "I don't know."

Another cycle passed, and over the time, Holly and Felix both began to watch the opening where the rationed food came out of because it was their only contact with whatever was holding them. Most of the time it was closed off, but one day shortly before the twins' birthday, their intent waiting paid off. On the other side of the portal, Holly saw the windshield of a silver crossover vehicle. It looked sad, yet joyous to see her. Its green eyes penetrated her soul, and she instantly realized who it was: her oldest brother, Jasper. She lurched back from the opening in fear, tears filling her eyes for the only time since Ellie had left. Felix was instantly by her side, asking her what was wrong.

"It was Jasper," she sobbed, "He was… a car. His eyes… just his eyes were all that was left," she said to a frightened Felix, who had collapsed next to her, trying to comfort his sister.

"We can't ever let them take us," he said in fear, "We'll hide."

"That sounds like a good idea," she said softly, still recovering from the shock.

Two days passed, and their names were both displayed on the television next to the elevator. She and Felix grabbed blankets from the beds, which were sanitized every day, and they made a fort; there wasn't any other way to hide. Being the first out of their level to hide like this, it must have startled the workers. The ceiling opened, revealing a solid dome. It moved to the two children and lowered, casing them in darkness. The floor closed underneath them, trapping the twins in their bed sheet fort. They hugged each other, waiting for it to be over right then, but then the dome stopped moving and opened from the top. They found themselves in the center of a large, brightly lit laboratory, where their bed sheets didn't fit in with the pristine surroundings.

All around, there were cars, much like the one Holly saw before. She didn't see Jasper again, but she saw others of all colors and sizes, and she even saw a couple small airplanes that were mingling with the cars. She clutched her brother all the tighter.

One drove over to them, taking notes, "_Two_ Shiftwells? Are you twins?" he asked them.

"You'll never hurt my sister," Felix said in defense, not comprehending the question and what he called them.

The dark gray car chuckled, "I don't intend to. This is to save her."

This time, Felix hugged her, "I don't care. Neither of us wants to be like you. We want to be free to live as we are supposed to."

"_Where did those words come from?_" she whispered faintly in his ear. He shrugged a little.

"What's a Shiftwell?" Holly asked.

"You," he replied, trying to be kind, "That's your new last name. You'll learn everything soon," he tried to explain.

Another beige car came out of nowhere, "Are we attempting the AI?" she asked quietly, so the already frightened children wouldn't hear.

"They're the last two, so try the girl first," he replied in almost slang.

"What's so important about us?" Felix demanded to know.

The gray car became rather blunt, as he had enough with the belligerent child, "Genetics. It's been proven that intelligence has a strong genetic influence, and even if you're not showing it, researchers have been tracking your family for a while, and you have a massive reservoir of untapped intelligence that's just waiting to be unlocked. We're going to help that with your sister in a few minutes," he said with a hint of ice in his voice that gave Felix an undesired silence.

A small forklift appeared and tried to grab Holly, who screamed when it touched her foot. When it finally got a hold of her, it pulled her away from Felix, who could only wave sadly. "Good-bye, Holly," he whispered. She managed to see him over the forklift, who kept a tight hold on her. She waved back and was gone. Felix looked to his right, still being in his makeshift fort, and he saw the little brown bear. He clutched it with full force, racking with sobs and not caring who saw.

The room she was taken to was just as pristine and clean as any of the rooms in the building were. The forklift placed her onto the cold metal table, making her squeal out of discomfort. It left, letting the door slide shut behind it, leaving Holly alone with her thoughts, and the one thing of color she saw was a medium sized Jaguar XJR-15, though she didn't know what model it exactly was. She just thought that the color was pretty. Observing it, it wasn't as large as the cars she had seen around in the lab. It looked a little like a teenager in car form. A wave of realization came over her; that's exactly what it was supposed to be.

The gray car from before came in, his face, or whatever it was called, was wiped clean of emotion for the time being, probably after dealing with Felix. He ordered her to lie down, and he attached Velcro to her wrists and ankles, making her desperate to escape. He ignored her attempts at freedom.

"What is 17 times 7004?" he asked her, trying to be kinder.

"How should I know?"

"Just a question," he said, smiling a little.

He worked to attach the wires to the major nerves around her spine, and placed an electrode helmet on her head. Multiple computers were activated, and the sheer light of it was making Holly shake in fear. The gray car looked in sadness at her, and threw a switch, knocking her into electric blackness.

She felt like a switch was flipped, and she suddenly understood what the car said, and realized that it was true. Her mind was racing, analyzing every bit of her existence and what it could possibly mean. She felt more alive than ever, even if she knew she was supposed to be unconscious. She began to see a stream of 0's and 1's, and her hearing came back to her with an electronic tinge to it, but it was crisper. She could hear everything happening. The purr of her motor and the small click she realized must have been her headlights flicking on were both clear as day. She was actually alright with it. She felt more complete this way, like a piece of her was missing, but she never even knew it was gone. The computer coding became more prominent in her vision, filling it with a black background and green font.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," she heard a voice say. After a second, she identified it as the gray car from before, distorted as it was. She used the short time to remember Felix. If only he could feel the freedom she felt now, even without vision or movement. She could see everything now. She heard static, and then her physical vision came to her, revealing the gray car and the forklift from before with the beige car. She attempted to move, but indents in the floor kept her in one spot for the time being, her undercarriage gently resting on the floor.

"Okay, Holly, what is 17 times 7004?"

"119,068, why?"

"It worked," he breathed a sigh of relief, "Tell Felix she's alright to calm him down," he ordered the beige car, "It'll make him easier to control."

Holly looked scared, "You can't do that to him. Please, please don't. He loves playing sports, and he'd never get to again," she said calmly and rationally, despite her underlying emotion. She could never do that before, and upon realizing it, she tried to back up in fear of herself, but her wheels just spun in the air.

"He can still play if he wants. Everything's modified so you can do whatever you want, even like this."

She tried to calm her fluttering… tank, but it was in vain, "What's happening to me?"

"You're combined with a small amount of redeveloped artificial intelligence, just to give your hidden IQ a boost to show itself."

"What was wrong with me before?" she pleaded, but the car said nothing. She felt an unfamiliar fluid fill her windshield, and it stung her eyes, making them water more. She used her calm mind to formulate another question, even if her emotions were racing. She felt as if there were two pieces of her mind now, but they were completely separate. "Why did you do this to me?"

"It was an order from CHROME, the first spy unit for cars. They need technological advancement as well as brute force, and you're being recruited to fill the gap. You'll just be a desk agent, but you'll be as close to the front line as safety permits."

She perked up a little, "What about Felix, Ellie and Jasper?"

"I think you mean your siblings," he clarified for himself, and she nodded, "It's classified, I'm sorry."

"Can I at least see Felix now?"

"You need to have the formalities completed first, starting with your name. You're going to keep the last name slated for your family, Shiftwell, but your first name also needs to be changed. What if we add an E to it?"

"What will that do?"

"Holley is the name of a parts manufacturer, so I'm sure it will be accepted."

"What else is there?"

"You have to learn how to move," he said, pressing a button on the floor. A lift elevated from underneath of her and moved her out of the indents in the floor. She stood shakily on her tires for a second before they slipped out from under her, the lift catching her from an invisible fall. It took her a while, but she finally mastered the basic maneuvers of being a car. She asked again if she could see Felix.

"I'll have to ask," he said quickly before leaving the room. He came back a couple minutes later, "You have about three minutes. He just woke up."

"Thank you," she said before following him to Felix's room in silence. When the door slid open, she saw another Jaguar, or so she could tell by the logo, and it was about her size. His green eyes looked into hers, being the part that all four siblings shared and connected with.

"Is that you, Holly?" he asked with both caring and bitterness, "Or did they change your first name, too?"

"They added an E to it, Felix," she said, "Or is that still your name?"

"They said my last name was enough changing," he said in quiet as the two cars accompanying them left the room, and then he whispered, "Did they make you intelligent, too?"

"Yeah," she replied, mimicking his volume, "Have you learned to move yet?"

"I'm still on the lift, if you haven't noticed," he gestured to the machine behind him that was keeping him steady. He seemed so much calmer to her. Normally, he would do anything to break out of something holding him, but now he simply acknowledged it and moved on.

She took a deep breath, but she felt she didn't even need to breathe with her engine off, "Are we still human?" she asked him, remembering what Ellie had told her to remember.

"I don't know," he said sadly, "Being able to see all of cyberspace changes you. We might not be, anymore," he admitted, Holley controlling her emotions to avoid the painful fluid she had for tears. She felt the sadness and fear build up within her, and she began to see the computer coding in her vision again.

"Holley?!" she heard her brother scream, "Holley! What's wrong with your eyes?" she tried to respond, but she was slipping back into the world of her dreams again. The last thing she saw was the gray car ordering a couple of forklifts to do something, and she lost touch with the outside world.

She awoke in her room again, supported by a lift like her brother's with the gray car by her side. She didn't try to speak, and he knew what she was trying to ask.

"Something's wrong," he said, "Something like that shouldn't have happened. I've checked everything, and there's no sign that anything happened."

She was trapped in the warehouse for months, having episodes such as the first. The zeros and ones filled up her vision and she'd collapse. She never told the gray car, who was assigned to her after the first day, about what she did to make them stop, but she finally did. She forced herself to stop any strong emotions, which overloaded the computerized part of her. While she eventually learned how to feel these without causing an overload, she still refrained from growing close to anyone at her new job. After all, friendships can be dangerous in that line of work.

**A/N: Okay, so that was a lot longer than I expected… hope you liked reading it!**


	10. Siddeley: Heavy Wings Grow Lighter

**A/N: This is the one about Siddeley as asked for by Titanic X… so hope you like it! I know the lyrics don't exactly fit, but I'd still recommend listening to Vanilla Twilight to truly get the mood of this chapter… I don't even know why it fits, but it does :P.**

**Christine317- It is kind of sad, but it explains why she's so reserved in the movie. Thanks!**

**Titanic X- I'm including a lot of my own ideas about this and some cannon from roleplay my friend is doing with Siddeley, so I changed it a little/added a lot… hope you like this! :)**

**RushandStreak- It is a lot to take in, but it makes for a good story, right? :P**

** 319- Hope this was fast enough for you! :)**

He had just seen Henry and the others pass by. At first, Sid had been placed among them, in line as he should, but now guards forced him up and into another room, even though it didn't seem like there was one. He'd been keeping up to date on the Revolution that had been taking place, wondering if it would ever take full effect. By the time he found out, it was too late. Placing him forcefully on a table, Sidney fought with all of his strength to escape, only to be met with Velcro. A man dressed in white searched his pockets, retrieving his identification badge and his pilot's license, the latter of which was removed from its protective sleeve and scanned into a computer. He was so proud of it—he had gotten it only a year ago, when he turned eighteen. While he wasn't allowed to fly the big planes, he still couldn't wait until he was cleared to do so, even if it was never going to happen.

He looked around to find high black curtains on all sides, and he then decided use his ears to figure out what was happening. He knew he was going to be a car, that's what everyone was being turned into, and he sighed because he'd never be able to fly again. Even if he himself didn't feel it, he loved the sensation of being in the air. Perhaps he'd throw himself off of a cliff just to see what it was like, he thought to himself bitterly. If he'd been a wolf, his ears would've pricked at the sudden clank and rattle of a large door opening. Concentrating on individual voices, he could make out a little of directions people were yelling.

"Easy! There's not much clearance," one person shouted at the top of his lungs, "You've got one foot between that and the door!"

He heard a collective shouting, followed by what sounded to be like the leader of the group, "You better not get a scratch on it," they said sternly, "Irreplaceable technology in there."

Sid wondered what they could be talking about when a helmet was forced on him, followed by a jolt of electricity that knocked him into blackness.

He woke up, and found himself near the ceiling of the warehouse. His vision clouding, he thought he was in a dream, and he felt himself sink lower, only to come to a standstill at his original position. Not thinking to look at himself, he stared around at the ground, where he saw a green sports car with blue eyes driving with the help of forklifts. He couldn't bear to know who it was, so he looked to his side to see two people in some sort of hovercraft, silently floating on a cushion of air.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked them uncertainly, confused as to what was happening.

"No, you aren't," the taller of the two said formally, "You are a plane. A state-of-the-art Gulfstream V, to be precise," the man continued.

The plane's eyes widened. How was this even possible? He wasn't sure. He felt an awkward sensation by what he thought was his tail, and while he couldn't see who it was, he saw one of the men at his side signaling to him. He saw the lights flicker and dim, and he felt a crippling wave of information course through his thoughts. Sinking lower on what he now knew was his landing gear, he tried to process what had happened, but it was impossible. He heard a faint beeping, and his vision was beginning to cloud. Unable to cope, he let go of his consciousness for the time being.

He awoke with a spray of cold water to his windshield. Wincing a little, he realized that he was still standing, but it wasn't he who was. Even if he couldn't see, he was being supported by strong scaffoldings placed in strategic locations along his wings and fuselage. The person who sprayed him looked apologetic, but said nothing. His top half was surrounded by catwalks, supported by thin wire suspending them from the ceiling. How they moved him there, he had no idea. He saw a yellow curved piece of glass sitting in a cart rather close to his nose, and wondered what it was for.

A few workers came with ladders, leaning them up against his side. Removing the windshield from in front of his eyes, the man dressed in white carefully made his way down, trying not to touch Siddeley, as he had been called by workers previous. The yellow piece of glass was put in its place, blocking out much of the color he could originally see.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked, not liking the feeling of the still hardening silicone around the edges of his eyes.

"Cars' eyes are still sensitive to UV rays. It's just a windscreen that keeps them out at higher altitudes." One of the workers said bluntly. Why hadn't they done this before he was stuck as a plane?

None of the workers really wanted to talk to him, so he tried to sleep for a small amount of time before he felt something towing him out of the room by his back tires. Wanting to turn around and taxi himself, he tried to break free of the helper, whoever it was, and was successful, swaying dangerously on his wheels before righting himself. He made way out to the runway, where he saw a small plane that seemed to be waiting for him. As he got closer, he realized it was a spitfire.

"You were supposed to be taxied by someone else," she said sternly. He recognized her voice, but he couldn't quite place it.

"I got bored. What's your name?"

"Morningfire. You probably knew me as Dawn, Sid."

"Well, at least you're your spitfire," he said, "I don't even know half of how I work," he chuckled a little, trying to seem calmer than he actually was.

"That's why you're training with me again," she explained to him, "even if you don't want to," she added with a little harshness.

After a few hours of figuring out how to fly with Morningfire, who eventually told him that he had been unconscious for two weeks, he was allowed to return to his new home at the agency: the hangar. He was greeted by a living forklift, who guided him to an area beside the large building, instead of inside it. Looking up, he saw that he was under some sort of roof that had odd pipes running through them. Before he had time to question, he was met with a shower of cold water, which basically paralyzed him out of cold and made him clench his teeth instinctively. A strange liquid was poured on him next, and even though he didn't know what it was, he hated it. This was followed by another cycle of cold water, and he finally remembered to use his engines to warm himself up a little. The forklift continued to guide him, staying in his line of vision. "What was that?" he asked it.

"Can't risk having something clogging your systems," it replied, "The cleaner you are, the safer you are."

He shuddered, "I wasn't even out that long! Why did I need a whole bath when I haven't even been a plane for a month?"

"Oh, you're not done yet," it corrected, looking back at the silver plane, "You still need to have your interior cleaned."

He stopped in his tracks, "What?"

"You're a passenger plane. Your job is to take cars in and out of risky situations and to different missions," he replied, giving him more information than any others had in his whole time as a plane. Thinking about having others riding _inside_ him made Siddeley cringe awkwardly before being led to what seemed to be his part of the hangar. The forklift went around his side so he could see him. "You have an intense UV light in your cabin. Shut your windows and turn it on for fifteen minutes."

"How do I do that?"

"I don't know. You just think about it, I guess…"

"I'm still new to this," he said, somewhat annoyed. He thought about turning on the cleansing light, and it eventually flicked on, allowing light purple light to dance across the walls through the shields on his windows. The forklift left for a few minutes, and Siddeley taxied himself around the hangar, being bored, he found a somewhat polished metal piece, probably to be used for patchwork. He caught the vague outline of a plane, and finding a more polished spot, he finally had a chance to see himself for the first time.

His brown eyes were the same, but he could barely tell what color they were from underneath the windshield over them. He tilted to the side curiously, witnessing his reflection copy him. Suddenly nervous, he lost his balance, almost scraping his wing against the floor. Not thinking about what he looked like, he steadied himself and looked back into the sheet of metal. Turning to the side, he realized that he even _looked_ state of the art, being mostly silver with a painted black top and tail. The number A113 was printed on the side of his tail, and he wondered what it meant. He still missed being human, but he figured it wouldn't be too bad being a plane. Checking his internal clock, he realized that 15 minutes had passed, so he flicked the UV light in his cabin off and headed back to his spot in the hangar before anyone noticed he was where he wasn't supposed to be.

**A/N: Thanks for reading :)**


	11. Ishani: It's My Sky

**A/N: This one's about Ishani, as the chapter title says, and I based a lot of this off of her song in the trailer because she doesn't have too much development in the movie… anyways, I haven't done a plane yet, so I figured I should do one :). If you guys have any suggestions for other oneshots, be sure to let me know. I'm kind of running out… I think I have one more idea, but I'm not sure. **

**Also, as I am not too familiar with the culture, I'm going to ask that you bear with me with some of the possible errors on my part, and I apologize in advance if I do get anything wrong.**

**Technorganic Nerd- I just wanted to say thanks for reviewing so much :). I love it when my review count goes up :P.**

**Matt (Guest)- Well, here it is!**

**RushandStreak- I'm glad you liked how I used her. I just couldn't help myself… :P. It was so fun writing, so I'm glad you liked it!**

**Enjoy :).**

All she had was flying. The young Indian girl walked silently from school to her house, passing a couple cows along the way, scratching one's ear out of jest. She quickly put her backpack on the ground and did her homework, making a sandwich sprinkled with orange zest. She loved the color it added to the otherwise plain snack, but she wasn't even hungry. Ishani instead got a glass of water. Taking breaks to clear her throat, she finished the glass quickly. She lived alone, then. It had been a while ago that her parents were taken, and she was lucky not to be in one of the containment facilities like the other children were; she was the exception.

Her parents had enrolled her in junior flight school, and she loved every second in the air or even fixing the plane she was assigned to. Her idea of school was going to an open field and watching the planes fly by above her, taking notes on any maneuvers she saw. Being one of the last people around, she was given free choice of any planes not being used for the Revolution, so she picked a finely-tuned racing plane. Even if it was plain white, she still loved how it handled and managed the wind. Dressing in her pilot's gear just because she could, she got on her bike and began the long journey to the airport.

Riding in the alleyways to avoid the streets, she tried to think about all that had happened so far. It was only a year ago that her parents and siblings had been taken from her. Her father had told her to hide in a closet, so she ran into the small bedroom she and her sisters shared and did just that.

The dark, dingy room concealed her form in the blackness, but it was not enough to hide. The officers had been ordered to search the building. One threw open the door, finding her. In a matter of seconds, she was being drug out by her feet and being questioned.

"Do you live here?"

"Yes."

"Are you of age 13 or above?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"12." She answered the questions robotically, as she had been taught to.

"Is there any reason why you should not come with us?"

"Junior flight school."

The officers paused, "Aren't you a little young to…"

"Yes, yes I am," she said, unfeeling. Maybe it was working.

The leader sighed, "Leave this one," he said to the others, "She doesn't have much longer left, and she could use the training." With that, the raid ended, leaving her as the only resident of the house. For the most part, she was left alone in her section of the town. There was a small doctor's office down the street. No one ever entered or exited, but its _open_ sign remained on, unchanged. She mostly ignored it, but it was the only building that wasn't run down in her world.

She finally arrived at the open airfield, glad her cough didn't keep her out. While there were no planes out and about, she knew they were there, but probably in the hangar. Leaving her bike outside on the ground, she joyously sprinted to the large metal building, slipping in the small door on the side.

"Hi, Kamal," she said cheerfully, "Are you in here?"

A medium-sized silver plane came out from behind a couple others, which were lifeless, "Where else would I be? Are you ready for today's lesson?"

She had already walked over to her plane, "When am I not?" She climbed onto its wing carefully, so as to not scratch it, and got into the cockpit, pressing the button to turn on the engine and putting her headphones on; they doubled as a radio connected to her instructor.

"Ishani," he said once he registered the signal, "Do you copy?"

"I copy," she said happily, laughing. She felt so at home.

"Good," he said, making himself visible to her, "Follow me to the runway."

Ishani taxied the plane out as fast as she could without getting in trouble. She'd been working with Kamal for a while now. She had never seen him as a human, but he had been assigned to her when the authorities released her so long ago. Her fourteenth birthday was just a few weeks away.

When she made it out to the runway, the silver plane began to instruct her over the radio again, "You know what to do, now." He took off ahead of her, banking in large circles. Ishani accelerated her plane into a takeoff, pressing the buttons exactly as she had done almost every day, joining him in the circle Kamal was flying.

"What are we doing today?"

"Hm…" he thought for a second, "Do you know how to freefall?"

"That's a little advanced, isn't it?"

"Oh, don't get scared now," he joked, "That act's for on the ground. You'll be fine, trust me."

"Okay…" she coughed, forgetting to turn off the radio.

"Are you alright?"

"I think it's just allergies," she lied, "What do I do first?"

"You have to climb as steep as possible," he said, "Let the engine stall, it'll come back when you need it to. Fall backwards as long as possible, flip the engine back on and turn around. Do you want me to demonstrate?"

"Yes, please," she replied. The silver plane climbed for a few hundred feet as he had said, allowing himself to go steeper than needed. Stalling, he let himself fall backwards. She gasped in horror, and he laughed a little, turning his engine back on and flipping around.

"It's fun once you get the hang of it."

She sighed, making her plane climb as Kamal had done. The engine stalled, and she pulled the controls towards her, making it flip backwards. The sheer G-force of it all forced her into a coughing fit, and it was all she could do to turn the engine back on before the ground came too close. Kamal was cheering for her, and when Ishani joined him again, he offered her a wing for a high five. She maneuvered her plane to gently brush over it with a wing.

"What was the purpose of the dive?" he asked her, quizzing her knowledge of different maneuvers.

"Um… escape and… fun?" she laughed a little.

"Correct," he replied, "Ready to land?"

"Sure," she said somewhat sadly. She wanted to stay in the air forever, but she was too tired. Angling her plane into position, she landed flawlessly. After checking her plane for damage and saying her good-byes, she made her way home. Parking her bike in the front of her house, she looked at the green _open_ sign of the doctor's office. It looked so friendly to her. Breaking down into a coughing fit, she went inside and turned on the light. Observing her hand she covered her mouth with, she was horrified. It was covered in blood. Ishani realized she couldn't fight it anymore.

Making the solemn walk across the soft dirt road, she shakily placed her clean hand on the door handle. Pulling, she found it easily gave way. At the back of the brightly lit room, she saw a scanning machine with a place for a handprint. Gingerly putting her hand on it, a blue light scanned the print, identifying her. Ishani heard a noise, and turned around to find that the front wall had been barred off. Instantly frightened, she looked for another escape. There was none.

The machine at the back of the room began beeping wildly, opening to reveal another scanning instrument that came to life. It scanned the whole room, stopping when it found Ishani. Keeping the light centered on her, it seemed to process what it had found. It then deactivated, the machine closing. The screen below the scanner lit up, revealing the results: "VIRAL CANCER TYPE 4: LUNG ORIGIN."

Ishani gasped and stepped back, her cough taking over again. The back wall opened up to a warehouse, filled with living cars. Three noticed the wall opening and instantly drove over. One pulled up a screen on the outside of the room. "Your first name?" he asked.

"Ishani," she said quietly.

They clicked something on the screen mounted into the wall, and his brown eyes met hers before he called a subordinate over, "Find a way to contact Kamal," he ordered, making Ishani even more scared.

"What's happening?" she begged to know.

"You probably don't want to know," one responded.

They gathered around her, forcing her to walk into the warehouse. A white car drove by her side, joining those who greeted her, "Look sweetie," she said in an American accent, "This is going to be difficult for all of us to explain, so try not to ask any, okay?"

"But—"

She sighed, "I'll give you one question, how does that sound?"

"Will I still be able to fly?" she blurted out, coughing afterwards.

"As far as I know, yes," she replied, causing Ishani to breathe out a sigh of relief; she took the hint to be quiet, but she silently resisted, stopping every now and then to see if she could find a way out. She saw the warehouse more clearly, seeing different doors on all sides, all sealed and all silent except the one she came out of, which was open and beeping.

They placed Ishani in a room that was clear on one side, but had no doorknob or any way out. Sitting in a corner, she cried, pulling her knees in close. What had she done wrong? She looked out the window with curiosity and saw Kamal enter the room, looking as sad as she had ever seen him. She couldn't hear them talking, but she hoped her mentor would get her out. He looked over at her, making eye contact. He shook his nose sadly, and she put her hand against the glass, begging for escape that she couldn't have.

She could make out beeping, which must have been extremely loud for her to have picked up any of it, and she saw a plane, her plane, being pulled into the room, but it didn't look like it did before. It had been painted orange, the brightest color imaginable. While she thought it was pretty, she also thought something was missing. If she had her way, it'd have much more detailing on it. Ishani heard a hissing, and she saw gas coming from the walls. In a matter of seconds, her life flashed before her eyes. All of the flying lessons she had taken, all of the successes and even the small crashes along the way. "It's my sky," she whispered to herself, her ability to think fading rapidly, causing her to fall into a deep sleep.

Ishani slowly began to awaken, her eyes fluttering open; the first thing she saw was Kamal, standing at her level a small distance away, talking to a car that stood just below him. She felt like she was floating, but she couldn't comprehend how.

Kamal finally saw that she was awake and moved over to her, "Hi, Ishani," he said gently, moving around her side, placing his wing under hers. She tried to move back out of fright, but she couldn't. Looking to her side, she saw a wing of her plane supported by some sort of strap, keeping her standing.

"What's—"

"It's why they let you stay when they took your parents," he said sadly, yet somewhat happily, "They wanted someone to be a racing plane because India doesn't have many right now, so they let me train you because you showed talent for a girl of your age."

She didn't like her instructor talking to her like that, but she decided to be quiet, "I just want to fly," she whispered, on the verge of crying.

"It's going to take a while to get back in the air," he admitted, "but you're going to be one of the only female racers in the world. Do you think you're up for it?"

"I'm not going to try and beat the boys at their game…" she replied, starting her engine. It gave her a boost of confidence, even if she couldn't go anywhere, "They'll never catch me, anyway."


	12. Sally: It's For Their Own Good

**A/N: Okay, so you guys could probably assume that this whole thing was based off the Cybermen in Doctor Who… and one episode in particular. See if you can guess after this one :). This chapter is also to fix a hole that has been pointed out in my theory.**

**RushandStreak- Thanks! You should know where this one came from… :P**

She had been assigned her next victim—but she didn't call it her victim, she liked to think of herself helping these people. The young, blonde-haired woman waited in the alley for the right moment to approach. It was just after sundown, and she had plans to meet this man, Cleon, on a date. Walking out in the shorter dress she had picked out for the hot summer night, she greeted the taller man with a smile, not letting on her true feelings.

"Hi," she said warmly, "Any idea where we're going tonight?"

"I was hoping you'd choose," he chuckled a little before looking away, "This is really awkward… online dating sites are so different from the real thing."

"Don't I know it," she replied, pleased that he hadn't chosen a place to go, "Okay… why don't we go to a restaurant I know? It's not too far from here," she suggested.

"That sounds good," he replied happily, walking in the direction she pointed in, she following right after, keeping pace with him.

"I practically own the place," she reassured, "Great food and dance floor. My father owns it," she said, lying. Her father had been dead long ago, thanks to the epidemic.

"Sounds like fun," he said happily, "But dancing's not really my speed… about 140 is," he joked.

"Oh, that's right, you want to be a racecar driver?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he said quickly, going off on a tangent, "I put it on my profile for a reason… I actually have a session scheduled for next week to test drive one."

She really didn't want to think about it, "Already know that…"

He continued to talk about racecars, almost like a child, throughout the entire trip to the restaurant, making the blond-haired woman roll her eyes internally. _I get it, why won't he just shut up?!_

She found the building she was looking for, opening the door to release music from the inside and allowing it to fill the streets.

The couple was the only group in the building, making service fast. The woman tried to play the "get to know you" game, but he was off about racing again, talking about how amazing he was on the track and it was only a matter of time before he was discovered.

"You can't tell anyone," he growled, "But I figured out what can throw a car completely into the air without even damaging my own."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, beginning to question his sanity.

"Because I want you to know what happens to people I don't like," he hissed, causing her to move a little further away from him. There was always a reason.

She brushed the comment off, but kept it in her mind. It was time for the final stage. "I need to use the restroom," she excused herself and got out of the room, leaving him waiting. She casually walked into the escape hallway she used every time, and she finally made it to the secret back room, where she was greeted by several other people.

"What's wrong?" one of them asked, worried.

"Someone forgot to put the anesthetic in his drink," she said somewhat angrily.

"Emergency action plan implemented," a computer stated robotically in response to her sentence.

"AI," she rolled her eyes, "Almost too quick to judge," she said, making her way back to Cleon, putting on a face of fright. She saw the doors bolt shut, and she was thankful that he couldn't escape. "There's a snake back there!" she said in the frightened tone that matched her face.

"I'll take care of it," he said, looking to impress her. He grabbed a chair as a defense and followed her to the back room.

"It's just through these doors," she said, "You go first," she nudged him towards the door, afraid, as she actually was. The very next moment would be crucial. Eager to save his date from the 'snake,' he charged through the door, a metallic _clank_ confirming that he was trapped inside. She sighed, and went through another door at the end of the hallway; it slid shut behind her, and left her out of sight of the main room. She brushed off her dress and fixed her hair quickly before walking out formally. Cleon was on a metal table, fighting the restraints with all of his strength.

"You!" he exclaimed, "You did this!"

"It's my job," she replied.

"Well, why can't ya get me outta here?"

"Why would I?" she asked bitterly, trying to justify her actions, "You never even asked my real name."

"Well, what is it?" his features didn't soften, too frozen with fright and anger directed at her.

"Doesn't matter anymore, my job is done," she spat, turning around and walking a little further back, hiding a look of regret. It always ended like this. She was allowed to go into a meeting room off of the main room, but it still had a mirrored window; she could still see the main room, even if they couldn't see her. The man was given a sedative, but she had to turn around for the rest of it. It always took so long to sift through memories, much less change them.

She found a brochure for the agency she hadn't seen before, and flipped through it. It said things she already knew about, such as that it was a branch of the Industrial Revolution Conversion Effort; she had been hired to guide their selections into the clinic. All of them were either extremely aggressive or mentally unsound; either way, it was impossible to change them the standard way. With the access to the human soul came the access to memories; at first, it seemed like only magic could perform it, as it was in the olden times, but certain electrical stimulations could change memories, as well. The people she had to coax to their fate would never remember being human, and it was vital that it stayed that way. Any talk of these years was to be kept to a minimum; their names were even exempt from referencing their new form.

"Sally?" she heard someone call her name, and she quickly exited the room to greet the scientists.

"What do you need?"

"Snakes don't live here," one of them laughed, replaying Cleon's memory of her faking being scared about a snake.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Well, that wasn't the only reason… do you have a good name for him?"

"I thought you didn't change names…"

"We do for the racecars," he clarified, "Racing names are actually somewhat fun to make, but we can't agree."

She smiled a little, and went around a room divider to see the car the man was going to be; it was blocky and neon green. "Hm…" she said to herself, hating it that she had to decide something for a person she hardly even knew. "Chick Hicks?"

"Sure, why not?" the scientist joked, causing Sally to cast her eyes at the ground. She turned to go back to her meeting room, nodding to the group working at the moment, but it was blocked by a security guard.

"Wait… what's going on?" she asked, her eyes darting back to the scientists, who were occupied with their work.

A man in a suit stepped out from behind the large guard. "Word's gotten out," he explained, "People know you're trouble. We need to move on with another agent."

"So… I'm fired?"

"Not exactly," he clarified, "This is a top secret agency, we can't just let you go."

"What do you mean?" she asked shakily, hardly able to balance in her heels.

"You're being converted. Tonight."

"I'm an Immuno!" she cried out, "You promised that I'd be spared if I helped you!"

"You'd be spared _for a while_," the man said, pure coldness in his voice, "That time frame is up."

"You can't!" she tried to run, but she tripped on her shoes, tears streaming down her face. The security guard grabbed her arms, guiding her to another metal table, securing her down. She was afraid, showing her emotion for once.

"You'll be fine," the man in the suit said, "You won't remember any of this, at least. We can let you keep some of your human memories from before, too," he added positively, to which he received a glare.

"Why can't you just let me out?" she screamed, trying to make her voice heard over the machinery that was being started up, but it was less than a second before she was forced into cold nothingness.

…

Sally awoke in a dingy alley, where a blue mustang was waiting for her. "You okay?" he asked in close to monotone.

"I think…" she replied, before retracting the statement, "What _am_ I?"

He chuckled a little, "It'll take a bit to get used to. You're a car, now. Just pretend like you're driving one, and you'll get the hang of it."

She eventually figured out how to inch forward, and then move several feet, almost to the end of the alley. "I think I'm getting it!" she said, looking in her mirror for the nameless car, which had disappeared silently. She tried to think back to before that day, but it was difficult. All she could remember was dates, countless dates that all ended horribly when she was a human. Horrified with herself, she made a decision: she was not going to stay in California in this form. Not thinking, she drove off, southeast—straight towards Arizona.

**A/N: Okay, so I hope that cleared up some things… it would explain Skipper's flashback—he probably got injured during a war similar to WWII and had PTSD. If you note, the actual name of the war was never mentioned, only implied, so it could be a war in the future around the same area as Guadalcanal. Also, as I couldn't find a way to mention it in the story, Sally's pinstripes were already on her when she woke up, just as a mark of her high-speed life, to make it more believable, even if she did remember before, as she didn't remember when she was actually converted, so she could have existed for any period of time before as a car and she wouldn't know. Anyways, thanks for reading :).**


	13. Dusty: More Than Just a Crop Duster

**A/N: Okay, I'm just going to say that this is the story to connect Against All Protocol and the Industrial Revolution universe. Yes, I'll probably rework certain parts of the other story to incorporate this into it, but not until I finish it. Actually… another oneshot coming up soon would also connect these worlds, but SPOILERS! :P. Also, I'm not going to use an actual town in Minnesota, mainly because it's much like Radiator Springs in origin, as a combination of several small towns that share a similar theme. Enjoy :).**

All was quiet in Wradiff Junction; the little-known town hadn't even been exposed to the Epidemic at the time. Sterling woke up to his rather annoying alarm clock and stretched, eager to get to work so he could be done with it. His work boots sent a cloud of dust around him as he walked down the main road; it was due to be paved soon, for some odd reason, so he savored the moment for the time being. He wasn't sure why, but he liked walking in the dirt, almost more than racing.

The smart orange crop duster was sitting in its usual location, in its hangar which could easily have been there since the farm had started. Another older crop duster sat parked in the corner. He wasn't even sure if it still ran. Sterling gulped and got into the cockpit, taxiing out to the small runway just outside, which was also dirt. Gently accelerating it into the sky, the young man surveyed the area to cover, concluding it couldn't take too long. Checking his gages once more before he began dusting, he flew over to the beginning of the selected area and turned on the sprayer, mounted underneath the plane.

It was a matter of about 6 hours before he was done, a new record for him. Flying back to the hangar, he turned off the engine on the crop duster, which had been sounding somewhat strained, and left it next to the older biplane. Happy to be finished with his work, he walked over to an abandoned field near his house. Of course Chuck was there, waiting for him as always. He normally finished his duties with the town gas station long ago. "Hey, Sterling!" he called out, running over to his friend, "Ready to practice?"

"Am I ever," he replied, the tall grass swishing around his knees. The only part of the field that wasn't covered in grass was a circular track in the middle. Walking over to the brownish-colored car he had left the day before. Though not flashy, its engine had more power than anything he had ever driven. Getting into the cab, he slid the key into the ignition, releasing all of the power in the somewhat ragged start. Chuck was sitting on the side of the track, watching him pull the car closer to the makeshift starting line. Chuck watched him intently, and he held up two fingers so he could see them. Two laps. Speeding down the first straightaway, Sterling felt as if he was flying, the dirt creating a cushion of air between the car and the ground, being somewhat difficult to navigate, but fun nevertheless. Almost before he had begun, he had crossed the line for the second time. He wished he could race more, but there was only so much gas Chuck could sneak out of the station at a time; after all, it _was_ Chuck.

Getting back out of the car, refreshed, he greeted his friend again. "That. Was. Awesome!" Chuck cheered, "You're gonna be the best racecar driver EVER!"

"Thanks," he replied, brushing off the comment, "You can't tell anyone yet, though. This is a surprise, got it?"

"Got it. What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

Sterling rolled his eyes, smiling a little. While Chuck was his best friend, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box.

Walking back to the town, he saw caution cones around the main street, the smell of tar strong in the air. They had paved it already. A large, black car drove on one of the dirt roads towards the center of town. A young man with steel in his glare got out, dressed in a suit with a tablet computer in his hand. Looking at the residents standing just outside their homes, he scoffed, getting back into the car and driving towards the farm Sterling worked at.

Alder was more annoyed than anything. He'd been told that the town was deserted, so he could work on his experiments in peace. As long as he was researching, he was exempt from conversion; that was his only goal at this point. The farm owner had given him one of his planes to work with; he had described it as an older biplane that looked as if it was about to fall apart. His dress shoes were covered in dust as he got out of the car, walking into the hangar. Two planes awaited him, the one he had been sanctioned was waiting in the corner, looking as sad as ever, even for an inanimate object. Putting on an old t-shirt over his suit, he was able to push the plane to the middle of the room. Checking its wings, Alder realized that the plane could probably still fly, given some work later on. Working quickly but accurately, he concluded that the wheels didn't have to be replaced, as it was a plane and not a car, and could be activated soon.

Putting some rusty metal behind its windshield for eyelids, Alder wondered where the eyes came from. No one really knew. Loading a computer into its cab, he quickly reprogramed it to the body of a crop duster, flipping the switch to 'on'. The whole plane jolted, its eyes popping open. "Hello," Alder said, testing to see if the experiment would work.

"Who are you?" the plane asked.

"Don't worry about that. What's your name?"

"I'm a crop duster," he said, not comprehending what the man was asking of him.

"Oh," he said, shaking his head, "I didn't program one in. How about… Leadbottom?" he asked, coming up with a random name off the top of his head.

"Sounds good," the plane replied, "So when can I start dusting those crops?"

"Not yet," he said glancing at the other crop duster. Of course, Leadbottom would need a mentor of some sort to make sure he learns the ways of the world. "If you could name your best friend, what would their name be?"

"What's a best friend?"

"Someone who looks out for you and likes to be around you."

"Oh! Okay. What about Dusty Crophopper?"

Alder mentally cursed himself. _Their directive is their life,_ he thought , _feel bad for the poor sap that's gonna be stuck with him._ "Sure," he smiled, "Now stay here. I'll be back."

Alder made sure the hangar door was shut and almost ran back to his car. It worked! Driving quickly back to the town, not thinking for the time being. "Who pilots the orange crop duster?" he called out.

Chuck shoved Sterling forward, "He's the best duster 'round here!" he said enthusiastically.

"Chuck, what are you doing?!" Sterling hissed, trying to get out of the limelight, but it was too late. Alder shook his hand, leading the man to his car. "Where are you taking me?" he asked, frightened but trying to stay calm.

"Nowhere special," Alder said nonchalantly. His plan was working.

They arrived at the hangar in the middle of the endless fields of green corn. Alder got out with his tablet, telling Sterling to stay put. Now more frightened by the man's odd actions, he attempted to escape, popping the door on his side open and running back to the field; all the while Alder was fighting with his tablet, trying to get it to work the way he needed it to. He didn't notice at first, but then he turned around for a short second to see Sterling running into the cornfield. Sighing and flinging himself back into his car, he gave chase, trying to keep a close tail on him, but it wasn't long before he lost him; the corn was too tall. Pulling back out to one of the divider roads, the black-haired man saw what looked to be a little-worn trail. Parking on the side, he got out and gingerly followed the trail. Winding and curving, he left the corn that turned into tall grass, where a rusty brown car was sitting, Sterling standing next to it.

"You don't run away like that," Alder sneered, "It's rude."

"Whatever you're doing, I don't want anything to do with it," Sterling said bluntly.

Alder looked at the car, then back to Sterling, "Do you even know what's happening out in the real world?"

"This _is_ the real world," he spat, standing his ground, "I've been training for years, learning how to drive something other than that crop duster. I'm gonna race, no matter what it takes."

"No," Alder corrected, his voice turning darker, "It's not. If you want to live, you'll come with me," he said harshly, drawing a gun, "Now."

Sterling put his hands up, "You'll regret this," he narrowed his eyes, walking as the man in the suit directed, back to the black car. He was forced in the back seat, Alder manning the tablet quickly to lock the doors remotely and put a barrier up between the back seat and the front seat.

Sterling watched out the window as the cornfields passed by. He didn't bother talking; it would be a waste of time. He didn't know where the man was taking him, but he knew it wasn't somewhere good. He wished Chuck didn't have such a big mouth. Looking forward through the clear panel between him and Alder, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on in the real world. He didn't even bother watching races anymore; he was focused on his own technique. The man seemed like he was from the government, like an inspector, but Sterling guessed he was something more.

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Alder mentioned quietly, "I'm sorry. It's the only way for me to have a report to turn in."

"What do you mean?"

"They said this town was deserted, so I could work in peace. It's a new law I have to enforce, now. It gets in the way more than anything."

Sterling didn't want to know what he was talking about, nor did he care. They pulled up in front of the hangar again, and Sterling was left in the car alone. Alder went back into the shed, finding Leadbottom sleeping, which was perfect for the time being. He looked sadly at the light orange plane, lifeless for now. Why did they always give him populated towns to work in? It just got in the way. He prepared a small syringe, filled with clear liquid. He walked back out to the car, unlocking the back door to find Sterling sitting quietly, glaring at him.

"Hold out your arm," he said, causing Sterling to inch away from him. "Look, this'll be easier if you don't fight," he said, grabbing his arm and inserting the needle, making the man wince. "Just sleep. It'll be over soon."

Alder felt so horrible watching Sterling fall into the unwilling sleep he had put him in. Of course, he was only the first. The entire town would need to be converted before he could continue with his experiments; that's probably why they sent him here.

Sterling's thoughts were too cloudy to make very much out, but he saw his captor look almost sad about what had happened. A low platform with wheels on it was brought out, and he saw himself be moved onto it, but he couldn't feel anything, couldn't move. More black cars showed up, and Sterling thought he was hallucinating when he saw one with eyes in its windshield. "Already?" it asked, looking somewhat sadly at Sterling.

"Needed someone to keep an eye on Leadbottom," another replied simply. Sterling couldn't make out who.

"I still don't get it," the car replied somewhat bluntly, "I guess I should tell the rest of the town. They're contained, right?"

"Yep," Alder said, and he said something else that Sterling couldn't make out; he was losing his grasp on the world. Fighting desperately to stay awake, he saw the black car drive down the dirt road before all faded to black.

He groaned, trying to get up. He felt so horrible. Sterling managed to open his eyes, but everything was blurry; looking down, he saw a light orange blob of some sort. His vision cleared a little and he realized he was looking down at a hood. Frantically glancing around, he saw wings at his sides and a propeller directly in front of him. "What's going on?" he asked, afraid, his propeller twitching a little.

Alder sheepishly put himself in view of the plane, "You're a plane, now," he said bluntly.

"Well I know _that_ much," Sterling replied, his nerves getting the better of him. "But why?"

"This is what's been happening in the real world," Alder said, "Everyone's going to be a car or a plane eventually."

"Why couldn't I be a racecar, then? That was the one thing I wanted to do… and now I can't," he realized.

"You need to help another plane who might not be… ready for civilized life yet."

"No!" Sterling protested, trying to figure out how to move, but he couldn't. Straps on his wings made sure of that. Pulling against them, he felt his engine instinctively start up, his propeller spinning. "Why did you do this to me?!" he asked again, fighting to escape.

"Don't strain yourself," Alder tried to calm him down, "You wouldn't have wanted to be that old racecar, anyways."

"Better than being a _crop duster_," he countered, his blue eyes cutting into the man standing before him.

"Crop duster? Who said crop duster? I'm a crop duster!" an odd voice said cheerfully, getting back into the hangar, "Is this… Dusty?" he asked Alder.

"Yes, it is," he said, looking hopefully at Sterling, "He's gonna keep you company while you learn your way around. I was just talking to him for a minute… is there any way you could wait just outside?"

"Sure thing," he replied, smiling at the prospect of a friend and turning, taxiing himself just outside the hangar.

"What did he mean, 'Dusty?'" Sterling asked, suspicious.

"Your name is Dusty Crophopper," Alder explained, "He picked it out… you couldn't have kept your name the way it was even if you wanted to. Most names end up becoming car puns, actually."

Sterling sighed, wondering why in the world a government would do such a thing. "Can I please just go back into town for a few minutes… without that other plane?"

Alder's face softened, "Just be back soon, and I wouldn't think flying would be a good idea, either."

"Why would I?" Dusty asked, feeling one of the straps relax, and then the other. Able to stand at his full height, he figured out how to move forward, not watching his wings for a moment and nearly hitting Alder in the head. "Sorry 'bout that…"

"It's fine," he sputtered, annoyed. _I just hope I don't end up a plane… even being a lemon would be better than that,_ he thought, urging Dusty to go.

Sterling drove down the dirt road he was so used to walking down. He saw the beaten trail he normally ran down to get to his car, but he supposed there wasn't a point anymore. It was odd to him to have to constantly look at the ground—facing upwards was quite awkward when one didn't know how to fly. He kept twitching his propeller, more out of instinct than need; he found it annoying to always have at least one blade in his line of vision.

He finally made it back to the town, getting the hang of moving again. His blue eyes glanced around, looking for someone, anyone, but specifically Chuck or Dottie… _Wait, not Dottie,_ he second guessed, making a beeline for the gas station, somewhat nervous. He knocked gently on the window with a wing and backed up a little. Almost instantly, Chuck came out, somersaulting on the ground with what looked like a baseball bat. "You're not takin' me!" He screamed, not sure of what actually beckoned him to come out.

"Chuck, it's me," Dusty admitted, twitching his propeller again.

"I don't know any talkin' crop dusters!"

"No, I'm not a crop duster," he tried to explain, but failing miserably, "I'm Sterling."

"That's really you?" Chuck asked timidly, reaching out to touch him.

"It's okay," Dusty said, Chuck responding by quickly poking one of the blades on his propeller, which resulted in a sneeze attack by Dusty. "I guess that's not okay," he corrected in between sneezes. When he finally regained control over his breath, he got back on topic, "You need to get out of here, right now," he warned, "They're going to do this to all of you."

"We already know about that," a small, brown-haired woman walked up, "We're sealed in, it just depends on when they come to get us."

"Wait… I can fly now," Dusty reasoned, "I can get you out of here!"

"They have armed guards," she scoffed, "Nice try. Besides, you probably don't even know how to fly yet."

"Doesn't mean I can't try," he argued. Dottie could be stubborn like that. "Do you want to be a car?"

"Do you want to die? A bullet hits your fuel tank and KA-BOOM!" she exaggerated, "You're staying here, and it's fine if we end up cars… we'll still be together," she reasoned.

Dusty sighed, "Dottie, I still want to get you out…"

"Hm… I don't think it's just for my sake," she narrowed her eyes, looking him over, "Oh! You just want us out cuz' I'm responsible for fixing you now!"

His eyes widened and he backed up a little, "Did not even realize that…" he shivered a little, knowing how thorough Dottie was with his pl—well, himself now. She was going to be a doctor in the new world… _THAT is kinda scary,_ he realized. "Well, it was worth a chance, right?"

"It was a good idea… but it couldn't work," Dottie said, "Better somewhat safe than not safe at all."

Dusty realized he had been gone for a while, and decided that he needed to go back, "There's another plane back at the hangar I need to show around… he's new, apparently," he excused himself, heading back to the building he had been told to return to. He never even told them his new name; driving back to the building, he wished that he could have kept his name—he purely despised the one he was given.

"Wow, you really stuck to that," Alder complimented, "Thanks, and I'll hold up my end of the deal. Leadbottom!" he called, and the biplane greeted Dusty overenthusiastically.

"So do ya wanna dust or do ya wanna dust?" he asked, apparently itching to fly.

"Um, no," Dusty replied.

"Aw, come on. You're a crop duster!"

Dusty smiled awkwardly, "Why don't we just go to the town for a bit?" Alder stood behind Leadbottom, shaking his head, 'no'. There were too many humans there, which could give the biplane the wrong idea of what a town's like. "You know, dusting sounds great right now," Dusty corrected, receiving a smile from Leadbottom's creator.

The silvery, older plane took to the sky before Dusty did, circling while waiting for him. Dusty sat nervously at the beginning of the runway. "Come on!" Alder encouraged, "You flew it before!"

"I'd _certainly_ take motivational speeches from the one person who made me like this," he replied sarcastically. He started his engine, the annoying single propeller blade being dissolved in speed. He forced himself not to think until he was in the air, pulling further and further up. Looking backwards, he realized how far away the ground was; he began to feel dizzy with fright. He quickly dove down to just above the crops, able to breathe again, even with the horrible smell of fertilizer. The biplane flew next to him, looking for someone to talk to. Leadbottom went on and on about pointless topics, but he kept mentioning one word that didn't seem to be in his normal vocabulary: directive. _What's that all about?_ Dusty wondered. Alder signaled for them to come back down, so Dusty lead the other plane back to the runway; looking back at him for a short moment, the plane seemed exhausted.

Thankful to be finished with the job he coped with so he could keep racing, he went back over to Alder, more curious than angry. Making sure the other plane was out of earshot, he asked, "Why did he keep saying something about a 'directive'?"

Alder sighed, "It's the one thing I haven't gotten rid of in robotics. Artificial intelligence needs to have their life goal installed in them when they're created, and they call that a directive."

"And another question…" Dusty continued, "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"

Alder paused, taking a small breath, "I guess being the bad guy isn't exactly my part, is it? A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do."

Dusty looked somewhat disgusted at the man, "So you sacrificed me, and you expect me to be okay with it and be friends with you?"

"I couldn't have stopped it."

"You could have given us a chance to escape."

"Even the Immunos are being captured."

"What are those?"

"They're immune to the disease that's spread. I'm one of them."

"Aren't you scared?"

"More than anything," Alder replied with fire in his eyes. "But of course, that just makes one all the more dangerous."

"So you'd commit crimes against humanity to preserve yourself," Dusty concluded.

"Wouldn't you?"

"Never."

"Never?"

Dusty questioned himself. Would he cause something like this to save himself from a lifetime of crop dusting? That wasn't the question. Would he cause something like this to postpone his own fate? "Never," he confirmed. "Chew on that as you torture my friends," he spat, "Keep your annoying robot, too."

He taxied himself away from the hangar, his nose lower than normal. Sure, what Alder did was horrible, but did Leadbottom deserve to be alone? He never did anything to anyone. Dusty continued his way back to the town, as he didn't have the nerve to go back just yet, but he swore to himself that he would. No matter how annoying the biplane was, he was alive now, or at least as alive as Dusty was, and he deserved to be treated fairly.

When he got back to the town, he was met by glares from everyone outside except his two best friends, who greeted him kindly. "What's the new plane like?" Dottie asked.

"You know that old biplane? That one, if it could talk, and now it can."

"Ah," Dottie replied, "So somewhat annoying?"

"Very, and I'm gonna need your help… he needs to learn how to talk about something other than dusting crops."

"How'd you get to know him?"

"By dusting crops…"

"Then how do you know that that's all he can talk about?" Dottie countered.

"He picked my name…"

"Wait, it's not Sterling anymore?"

"Nope. When they change you, they change your name too for some reason."

"Well, what is it?"

Dusty paused for a second. They'd laugh, he was sure of it. "Dusty Crophopper."

"You really are a crop duster, aren't you?"

"More than that, but yes."

"I'm gonna call you the Dustmeister!" Chuck jumped in, excited.

"Sure, why not?" Dusty replied in confirmation. He wondered if he could still race, of course, Dottie would probably kill him, but still. He was more than just a crop duster, and he was going to prove it.

**A/N: Thanks for reading :)**


	14. CHROME: Halloween Storytelling

**A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! This story's a little different from the other oneshots in this story, but it still features the overall theory and theme, so I'm gonna put it here. I'd also recommend rereading the first chapter if you haven't seen the version on DeviantArt, because this fits in much better context with what I changed this story to be in conjunction with (for people that want timeline specifics, this is between IRII and AAP). Anyways… enjoy :)**

"You're sure everyone's schedule is cleared for tonight?"

"You've already asked, but yes," Finn replied to Holley, who looked a bit nervous but excited. That day was Halloween, and it was a tradition among CHROME agents to tell frightening stories in the holodome, alternating years for who told the story, and everyone knew it was Estella's turn this year, as well as Miles's first time witnessing the event. It would certainly be interesting; even if Finn didn't necessarily approve of rearranging schedules for anything, he was always up for a scary story around Halloween… Leland and Sid had been the ones to start it long ago, likely the year CHROME had been established, but he couldn't remember at the moment. At first he detested the tradition simply because they tried to scare Finn and Finn only, but as the group grew and changed it became more tolerable, especially since the new members were normally targeted, as they were added on the end of the rotation and had the longest time before they could tell their story and possibly get revenge.

"Thanks, Finn," she said, smiling and nodding as she left the room, probably to set up the holodome's programming for that night.

Even if it was supposed to be a fun event, Finn couldn't help but sigh. Now, all it only made him think of Leland and Londyn… both of them practically lived for the group activities CHROME had adopted. He shoved the thought aside, leaving his office to see that everything was being properly set up. Of course, Holley was much better with computers than he was, but he needed to make sure Sid could still fit into the dome with the configuration she set up.

…

Later that night, as the sun was going down, the agents began to gather in the dome. Holley had gotten Miles from the dorms, where he'd been told to stay today, guiding him through the fake trees and to the center of the dome, where everyone else was except for Estella. Siddeley had been allotted a spot by Holley's programming, filling in forest trees around him. He'd settled extremely low on his landing gear, careful not to touch the dirty ground, but it still looked like he was laying down for the most part, likely so he could see the speaker better and he wasn't towering as much over the smaller cars. He nodded slightly in greeting, smirking at the presence of the Range Rover.

"If this is hazing realize that you already gave me weapons," Miles said, partially annoyed and partially frightened. The setup of the scene looked like an initiation ceremony from his point of view, but he was having none of it. He'd learned his lesson from college.

Finn rolled his eyes, "No, it's not hazing. We're more professional than that." He had parked close to one of the paths in the trees, just in case he wanted to slip out without anyone really noticing.

"Then what's all this?"

"We're telling scary stories," Sid replied.

"Oh, and THAT'S professional?"

"It's tradition," Holley said, taking her spot in the circle, "Estella's telling the story this year, and then Siddeley next year, and then Finn the year after."

Miles found that he'd been led into the circle already, so he didn't bother changing positions. "Where is she, anyways?"

"Right here," the Pacer said, driving into the group and turning to face the rest of them. She'd been painted an even darker blue than she already was, almost black, and her headlights were shining softly, enough to illuminate herself a little and make her position known. Holley activated her computer and made the holographic full moon shine a little more on Estella, almost like a spotlight not not especially noticeable.

"Sorry, Stella, but what's going on?" Miles asked, still extremely confused.

"Telling ghost stories, so shush. Does everyone in here know what the Revolution refers to?" she asked cryptically, as was customary when one was going to speak about the world before they were all cars. She knew about everyone, but was most concerned about Holley, and it seemed that everyone else was, as well, because all eyes were on the Jaguar.

Holley reversed a little, somewhat embarrassed, "I was _thirteen_, if you must know." She was used to older cars whispering around her when they talked about that part of history and it never got less annoying.

"It wasn't meant for you to take offence, Miss Shiftwell," Finn replied, chuckling a little, "We're all human here, we were just making sure you were, too."

"Must be a good story if you had to ask _that_ question," Siddeley pointed out, "Could you actually tell it, please?"

Miles rolled his eyes at the plane, though no one really noticed it. Of course it would be a good tale, since it _was_ Estella… but the whole thing was iffy to him, the topic of the Revolution already touchy to begin with. Finn wouldn't sit in on such a petty tradition if there wasn't something more to it.

"Alright, alright," Estella finally said, turning off her headlights and allowing the fake moon to be the only source of light. She'd been preparing this story for years, rehearsing it privately until it was perfect. "It started with the beginning of the end…"

...

"The Immunos were just beginning to be hunted down and converted, one by one. With the reconstruction occurring at the same time, there were plenty of places for them to hide, but it also made them harder to catch, even if it was a top priority for cities that weren't near wildlife preserves, where Immunos could seek asylum. A young woman who only went by the name Elizabeth, or Ella, had been hiding in an abandoned apartment building for weeks, running a small garden in a couple windows for food and thankful the water hadn't been shut off yet.

Then came the day they began to rebuild that part of town. A forklift went through the hallways of the building first, calling out to any hiding residents to get out before they took the building down. Ella stayed hidden in her bathroom, laying in the bathtub to keep the forklift from seeing her. Apparently there were other silent residents because she heard footsteps above her and just outside her door.

Ella stayed hidden as best as she could, and was successful… until the wrecking ball knocked the top off of the apartments. She stayed in the bathtub, but the destroyed part of the building had flipped upside down was it fell to the ground. All the rubble came down on top of her, her hiding place being the only thing that kept her even somewhat alive. Someone had seen her orange shirt through a window, and she was dug out of the destroyed part of the building. It was supposed to come down all at once, but the wrecking ball wasn't used to actually hitting a building himself yet. When they found her, she was nearly dead; there was no way she could survive much longer, even if she was trying to drag herself away from the cars with her one good arm that hadn't been crushed.

The forklift that had tried to evacuate the building took her to a clinic, where all the others were forced to go, but this was an emergency. Monitoring her heartbeat, she flat-lined before they could even get all of the electrodes on her. Working quickly and somewhat carelessly, they put the helmet on her after putting on as many electrodes as possible and threw the switch. No one knew if it worked.

They connected the black box to the only car they had immediately on hand, an orange Pacer, the scientists, now all forklifts, were thankful to see that she'd opened her eyes. As soon as she realized what she was she cried."

...

Estella paused for a second, remembering her own conversion… it had been almost as bad, but her silence was also for emphasis. She could see that Miles sympathized at least a little from the look in his eyes, but it was a good thing for her purposes. She also noticed that Holley was missing, and wondered if it was a little early for that, but continued anyways.

...

"They eventually taught Ella how to move again and released her without another word. She didn't want to go back to where she was-she couldn't- so she checked into a hotel for the night until she could figure out what to do with her life. As she looked in the mirror that was there, she felt like she wasn't herself… like something was wrong with her eyes. She thought nothing of it, and went to sleep.

It wasn't an ordinary sleep. Ella was so close to death when she was converted that her black box didn't pick up every trace of her, and her soul longed to be one again instead of hanging in the balance between life and death. Her troubled dreams awoke her, and she looked in the mirror again. Her eyes had an odd green glow to them now, and she thought she saw a shadow in the corner, but she didn't bother wondering about it. She was too tired from her accident and turning into a car, so she went back to sleep.

When Ella woke up again, it was late in the afternoon. The shadow was gone, but she looked in the mirror and couldn't remember who she was or how she'd gotten there. She studied herself and noticed the eerie bright green glow her eyes had. Not remembering her own name, she renamed herself Jade, as her eyes were her most striking feature. She smiled a little, showing her teeth when she saw that she had small fangs, almost like a vampire, but she didn't know how she knew because she couldn't remember anything before that day.

Jade left the hotel, but she couldn't take being in the city anymore; she knew where to look for other Immunos, and she saw them everywhere, struggling to survive. She turned away, heading to the countryside to think things through. But as she drove, she began to forget more and more of herself. Her black box was not protecting her soul, making her die mentally. Her fangs she had noticed when she woke up grew more and her eyes could practically have been her headlights if it hadn't been daytime. Her artificial intelligence part was taking over.

Suddenly, she came across a Hugo broken down on the side of the road, a puddle of oil beneath him. She hissed at the sight, lunging for the car and biting through his hood without another thought. She severed his oil and electrical lines, not even drinking his oil. She left him for dead and drove into the forest, claiming the territory as her own."

…

Estella had slowly inched closer to the rest of the group, her eyes gaining an almost evil look to them. Miles wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the greenish glow she was talking about. He looked around to make sure he knew where the exits were, but there were none… the trees had almost grown around them, and where was Holley? He wished he'd broken down or something… then he wouldn't be there right then. It was like he'd never even met the car telling the story. He'd NEVER seen her acting this good… he could normally still tell it was her, for the most part.

…

"Jade lived on about a 20 kilo radius, killing any car that stayed too long in her territory, drinking their oil so she didn't have to leave her claim; the oddest part about it was that she never broke down. Not once. It didn't take long for the town nearby to see her in the forest, her glowing eyes giving her away. When they began seeing their residents being killed around the sightings, they arranged a mob to track her down and destroy her. She didn't even see it coming.

The entire town raided her territory, cornering her next to her most recent kill. Having brought a few forklifts with them, one tended to the injured car and two focused on Jade. A couple pickup trucks managed to hold her down as they severed the connections between the black box and her, shutting her down for good.

They left her body in the forest as a reminder to any other rogue cars that could be wandering in the forest, but the signs didn't last long. She woke up, her eyes glowing even brighter than ever, and some say that even today she still wanders all of Europe, looking for a new place to lay her claim."

…

Estella had transfigured her personality to the opposite of how she normally was. When she finished telling the story, she chuckled evilly, revealing fangs of her own. Her eyes were unmistakably the eerie green she'd described, and as the moon got brighter she turned a sickly orange. "Imposter!" Miles cried out, activating his stun gun but not willing to shoot... he kept close to the edge of the forest, seeing that the trees were too close together for anyone to escape. He didn't even bother seeing what the other two were doing… Jade was going after him next

After a couple minutes of chasing Miles around, Estella chuckled genuinely, her eyes blinking back to their normal rich brown color. "You really don't know how to take a joke," she said, the orange tint to her dissipating and some of the trees shrinking back into the ground, revealing Holley with her computer activated, laughing while shutting down the scene she'd created in the holodome, leaving Miles somewhat dumbfounded.

"All caught on video, Estella," Siddeley added, revealing a small camera that was hidden in the shadow of his wing. Not surprisingly, during all the commotion, Finn had vacated… he likely had most of it on video, as well.

"You've got to be joking…" was all Miles could say, cringing a little as he realized the blackmail that had just been created against him.

"We were, you weren't," Estella said, eyes still laughing even if she wasn't anymore. "It was all in fun. That's why we have the tradition. All new agents get the same treatment."

"So it _is_ hazing," Miles concluded, annoyed, "I should've known."

"Not exactly," Siddeley said, not used to being as quiet as he had been, "Hazing is a ceremony where new members are forced to do ridiculous things to be a part of the group. You were already in the group, we were just having a little fun. Besides, it's the storyteller's choice who they target. Most of the time it's either everyone or Finn if there isn't a rookie among us," he smirked, getting up from the position he was in and likely trying to figure out the best method for exiting the building later… it was a task on its own to go inside any building besides his hangar, much less leave one.

Miles rolled his eyes. Something about the plane annoyed him from the start, and what had just happened to him didn't make the situation any better, "Same difference. Remind me next time to break my drive shaft or something," he said, turning and heading back to the dorms for the night. He wished he could get a house instead of staying at CHROME, but he wasn't permitted to yet… if ever.

"Hey, wait!" Estella called after him, catching up and nudging him a little with a tire, "It couldn't have been that bad."

"You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"That picking on others hurts… I have to deal with it for the rest of my life… it takes its toll on people's sanity."

That was the last straw. "And you think _I'm_ not made fun of? The ONLY reason I'm even here is because Finn noticed I could act. I _learned_ to take a joke, which apparently _you_ haven't. I don't care if Finn promoted you to an agent or not, but you still have a long way to go."

"It's not that… it's just… I don't know," for once in Miles's life, he struggled to get his thoughts out.

"About…?" Estella realized at this point that she'd been a little too snippy, so she backed off a little after she caught herself.

He sighed a little, "I hate being a car… I know most people do, but…"

"Yes, I know… but I also knew it would be what scared you most… it's what lemons have in common."

"Well… that, and I'd rather tell a scary story than hear it," Miles added, smirking a little. He almost wished he had a disguise program; perhaps he could request it, just for Halloween costumes… something told him that unless he was allowed to stay away from CHROME headquarters Finn wouldn't allow it.

"Alright, try to scare me," Estella prompted.

"Er… I don't even think it's Halloween anymore," Miles said, checking the clock on the wall and seeing that it was 12:01. "Nope, just missed it. Maybe next year," he concluded quickly, driving out of the building before Estella could say anything more.

"Liar!" she called after him, laughing and turning to go back to her own room for the night, already planning for the next time she got to tell the Halloween night story.


End file.
